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The Master Revenge 


H. A. CODY 



By H. A. CODY 


THE MASTER REVENGE 
THE TRAIL OF THE GOLDEN 
HORN 

THE KING’S ARROW 
JESS OF THE REBEL TRAIL 
GLEN OF THE HIGH NORTH 
THE TOUCH OF ABNER 
THE UNKNOWN WRESTLER 
UNDER SEALED ORDERS 
IF ANY MAN SIN 
THE CHIEF OF THE RANGERS 
THE FOURTH WATCH 
THE LONG PATROL 
ROD OF THE LONE PATROL 
THE FRONTIERSMAN > 



' THE 

MASTER REVENGE 

BY 

Hr A. CODY 

n 


NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



COPYRIGHT, I924, 

BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 




Cl A 807 459 ' 


THE MASTER REVENGE 


PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 


OCT 22 '24 


/ 





FOR YOU 

Who have eyes that see, 

Who have souls that understand, 
Who have hearts that pardon, 

This book is written. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER P A G E 

1 Silent Expression. x 

2 Mutual Need.21 

3 An Accident.. 

4 Comrades in Distress.39 

5 Repairing the Fence.49 

6 A Broken Shaft.36 

7 Through the Window.66 

8 A Startling Confession.74 

9 The Struggle.84 

10 The Fugitive .92 

11 Restitution.. 

12 The Flight.. 

13 Behind Prison Bars.122 

14 Stern Terms.129 

15 A Helping Hand ..142 

16 Stricken Down.133 

17 A Star and a Toad.161 

18 Inspiration.x68 

19 The Night Visitor.176 

20 A Desperate Attempt.185 

21 Repairing Things.194 

22 When the Bell Rang.203 

23 Destruction.211 

24 Where Flows the Brook.220 

25 For the Sake of a Child.229 

26 The Vision.239 

27 What the World Needs.249 

28 Face to Face.258 

29 As a Man Soweth.267 

30 The Completed Revenge.278 

31 After Long Years.289 











































The Master Reveng 


“There is no revenge so complete 

as forgiveness.”— H. W. Shaw 

“Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye 
for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: 

But I say unto you, That ye revenge not evil.” 

—The Master 


THE MASTER REVENGE 


CHAPTER 1 


Silent Expression 


HE warm June day was drawing to a close, and 



the sun was hanging low over the far-off west¬ 


ern horizon. Not a breath of wind stirred the quiver¬ 
ing air, and the mirror-like river reflected the trees 
along the shore. The birds chirped and twittered, and 
the drowsy hum of insects sounded on all sides. There 
was a restful peace on water and land. Nature was in 
her gentlest mood, and harmony reigned supreme. 

A man standing beneath the wide-spreading branches 
of a great patriarchal oak surveyed the entrancing scene 
with kindling eyes. He was a powerfully-built man, 
clad in rough work-a-day clothes. He presented a strik¬ 
ing appearance as he stood there, his flowing beard and 
mass of iron-gray hair enhancing the effect. He leaned 
slightly upon an axe with which he had been chopping, 
while at his feet lay a newly cut piece of ground-ash. 
But his mind had wandered from his work, and, like a 
thirsty man, he was drinking into his soul the beauty 
surrounding him. 

“And for twelve years I missed all that,” he at length 
murmured. “Twelve years!” 

His right hand clutched hard the butt of his axe 
handle, and an angry expression crept into his eyes. For 


ll 


12 The Master Revenge 

a few seconds the memory of the past had blotted out 
the joy of the present. He beljeved that he had steeled 
his heart to forget forever the degrading bondage of 
those twelve years. But now he knew that he had not 
fully succeeded. The iron had gone too far into his 
soul to be healed by a few months of freedom. 

The sound of children’s voices aroused him, and 
turning quickly around toward the river, he saw a small 
boat coming upstream quite close to the shore. A 
woman was rowing, and seated astern were two small 
children. Not wishing to be seen, the man stepped 
aside into a thicket of bushes to wait until the boat 
should pass. This did not take long, and as it cut 
through the water just abreast of the big oak, the 
hidden man gave a great start, and only with difficulty 
suppressed an exclamation of astonishment. He had 
caught sight of the woman’s face, and heard her speak 
to the children. 

“We must go back now,” she was saying. “We 
have come quite a distance, so must get home before 
dark.” 

“Let us go ashore near that big tree,” one of the 
children suggested. “It’s such a nice-looking place.” 

“No, dear, not now,” the woman replied. “We can 
come another day and have our supper here. How 
would you like that?” 

“Oh, great!” This from both children, “And will 
daddy come, too?” 

“Perhaps so.” 

The woman swung the boat around, and began to 
row downstream with long steady strokes. The man 
among the bushes watched her until she could no longer 
be seen. He was trembling with excitement, and the 
perspiration stood out in beads upon his forehead. At 


Silent Expression 13 

length his tense body relaxed, and he sank down upon 
a fallen tree by his side. His eyes still stared after 
the receding boat and remained in that direction long 
after it had disappeared from view. At last he rose 
to his feet, picked up the ash stick, threw it over his 
left shoulder, and with axe in hand, walked slowly 
away from the shore. Reaching a path, he followed 
this until he came to a clearing, and in view of a small 
house beyond. Not once did he look at the steadily- 
increasing glory of the western sky, and the beauties of 
nature appealed to him no longer. Something of far 
greater importance filled his mind and soul, making him 
oblivious of all else. 

The house toward which he was slowly moving 
nestled on a gentle elevation commanding a good view 
of the river. It was partly surrounded by tall fir and 
spruce trees, thus forming an excellent protection from 
the severe winds of winter. As a rule the man always 
gazed with admiration upon the building which was 
the work of his own hands. Sometimes he would 
pause for a few minutes to note its neat proportions, 
and the snug verandah where it was his custom to sit 
on warm evenings. But now he did not notice the 
house as he walked up the path, opened the door and 
entered. The air inside seemed exceptionally close, so 
he hurried outside again, and paced rapidly up and 
down the gravel walk in front of the building. This 
he did until darkness enshrouded the land. He then 
went back into the house, lighted a lamp and sat down 
before a small table containing several books, writing- 
paper, pen and ink. Here he remained for a while in 
deep thought. At length he seized the pen, and with 
feverish haste began to write : 

“I am strangely stirred to-night, so must give ex- 


14 


The Master Revenge 

pression to the thoughts which agitate my mind and 
soul. There is no one to whom I can speak, and none 
would understand if I did. To put my feelings upon 
paper may give me some relief—it is the only thing 
I can do. 

“I saw Helen to-night after twelve long years. She 
had no idea that I was watching her as she sat in the 
boat with her two little ones. Most likely she has for¬ 
gotten me, and long ago ceased to care whether I am 
dead or alive. But I have never forgotten her, and 
during my years of bondage she was ever before me. 
She does not seem to have changed much in that time, 
judging by the glimpse I had of her this evening. She 
bore herself with that same regal grace as when I knew 
her, and her voice was as musical as ever. But how 
I long to look into her eyes, and see if the same old 
expression is there such as I remember that last night 
I was with her, and left her standing among the 
flowers at the gate of her home.” 

The man ceased writing, and gazed off into space. 
He then laid down the pen, rose to his feet, and paced 
up and down the small room. After a while he resumed 
his seat, and continued: 

“I never committed the crime with which I was 
charged. God knows I had no knowledge of it what¬ 
soever. But a strange combination of circumstances 
placed the blame upon me, and I was convicted. I 
did the best I could for the Trust Company where I 
was employed, and was making rapid progress. I en¬ 
joyed my work, and looked eagerly forward to the 
time when I could ask Helen to become my wife. I 
believe that she loved me, and would have been glad 
to share life’s lot with me. But when the money was 
missing, and a large amount it was, I was at once 


Silent Expression 15 

suspected. I had gone to Standridge for a brief holi¬ 
day. It was there I was arrested the day after m i? 
arrival, and several of the missing bonds were found 
in one of my grips. How they got there I never 
knew, and perhaps never will. But I am going to try 
to find out, and do all that I can to solve the mystery 
and clear my name. The evidence was strong against 
me, and I could say nothing in my own defence except 
my past good record. The sentence was a stiff one, but 
the judge who pronounced it was a hard man, and 
showed no mercy. This was strange, as Ned Preston, 
his own son, worked with me, and we were roommates. 
And it was Ned who married Helen! I knew that he 
wanted her, but he had no chance, so I believed, against 
me. She told me over and over again that she did not 
care for the fellow, and I was not surprised at that. He 
was the most conceited man I ever met, and hard to 
endure for any length of time. He was a boaster and 
a great spendthrift, and his father often had to send 
him money. He led a fast life, and when I once 
warned him, he told me to mind my own business 
and he would mind his. Anyway, he has succeeded, 
and is now a leading man in the city, and Helen is his 
wife, while I am a jail-bird! He has everything to live 
for, the respect of all, and a home with loved ones 
there. And what have I, who tried to do my duty and 
live an honest life? Nothing but a few acres of land, 
and a house where I eat and sleep, but which never 
resounds with voices of happy children, and where no 
one awaits my coming home. Oh, it is hard! And yet 
I am used to hardness. I have steeled my heart to 
endure until my aim in life is accomplished and I 
clear myself from the black stigma that rests upon 
me. 


16 


The Master Revenge 

“Although my life at the Penitentiary was hard, yet 
there were compensations. At first Helen wrote to me 
quite often. She believed that I was innocent, and 
that was a great comfort. Then her letters suddenly 
ceased. I can never forget the agony of those days 
of waiting for her messages which never came. I 
cannot fully describe the loneliness of my cell when 
for hours I would lie awake and think, until at times I 
was almost like a madman. Often I beat with my 
fists against my ceil door. Why I did so I do not 
know, but those who have experienced what I have 
will understand the terrible insane feeling which comes 
over one locked for hours in a silent cell, with none to 
speak to, and his own despairing thoughts for com- 
pany. 

At that time there were two things which kept me 
from either going stark mad or developing into a 
caged beast. One was the letters I received from my 
parents. They believed in me, and until they died they 
wrote me noble words of encouragement. May God 
bless them! The other, was my work. I learned the 
carpenter trade, and became quite efficient. I always 
liked to work with wood, even when a child. I hold 
firmly to the opinion that it is one of the noblest of the 
trades. Was not the Great Master Himself a car¬ 
penter and worked in His father’s shop? A carpenter 
is not only a builder but a repairer, and Christ was both, 
as His wonderful life of teaching and service shows. 
It was some comfort to me to feel that the Great 
Carpenter suffered, who was much more innocent than 
myself. I often thought of all this as I worked at the 
bench and tried hard to follow His example of noble 
patience and forgiveness. But I am afraid that I often 
came far short of the ideal. And I feel so now after 


Silent Expression 17 

years of struggle, especially so since I looked upon 
Helen’s face to-night, and old memories came flooding 
through my mind with the realization of what I have 
lost in life. 

“And all the time I thought of Helen. I tried to 
believe that she had not forgotten, that she had written, 
but her letters had gone astray. It is wonderful how 
a desperate man will cling to the slightest hope. But 
it was all I had, so cling I did until I received word 
that she was married. The newspaper account of the 
wedding was sent to me in an envelope, but who sent 
it I never knew. I cannot think it was Helen, for such 
cruelty was not in her make-up. It must have been 
an enemy who wished to add to my bitterness. The 
wedding account was a long one, and told in detail 
about the bride, and how beautiful she looked as she 
stood at the altar rail. I did not need the paper to tell 
me that, for it was impossible for Helen to look any¬ 
thing else but beautiful. The description of the groom 
was most flattering. He was Judge Preston’s only son, 
a young man who occupied a prominent position in the 
business world, and a great favorite in social circles. 

“I do not remember much what happened during 
the weeks that followed the reception of this news. I 
was like a man dazed, beyond all power of thought. 
But gradually my mind cleared, and a new feeling pos¬ 
sessed me. The uncertainty was ended, and Helen 
could never be mine. And yet there was some comfort 
in the thought that although she had married Ned 
Preston she did not really belong to him but to me. 
I dreamed of her at night, and through the day she 
was with me more than ever. I have never been able 
to understand why this was so although I have medi¬ 
tated upon it a great deal. Perhaps Helen was think- 


IS The Master Revenge 

ing of me as I was thinking of her, and in some 
mysterious way our souls were in sweet communion. 
Anyway, I received much consolation which helped 
me to endure my tedious bondage. 

“About this time I turned my attention to earnest 
reading and study. I had always been fond of books, 
but in my solitude I found in them a great source of 
light and inspiration such as I had never experienced 
before. There was a fairly good libary in the Peniten¬ 
tiary, and I, like the other prisoners, was allowed to 
have one book at a time in my cell. Sundays, which 
hitherto had been almost unbearable, now became a 
pleasure, and I read to my heart’s content. Numerous 
books I read, but my chief delight was in the Bible, and 
I wondered why I had so long neglected that marvellous 
volume. It was there that I first learned of God’s 
wonderful dealings with man, the final triumph of the 
just and the overthrow of the wicked. As a boy I had 
often been advised to read and study the Bible, but had 
always scoffed at the idea. To me it was a most un¬ 
interesting Book, of no practical use in life. Now I 
see where I was wrong, although it took years of 
suffering to open my eyes to the light. It is my daily 
joy and companion now, and I bless my imprison¬ 
ment for that. 

“And next to the Bible came Emerson’s Essays. 
When I first read them I called myself a fool for 
having overlooked them for so long. There are sev¬ 
eral I know almost by heart, such as ‘Self Reliance,’ 
‘Compensation,’ and ‘Courage.’ How they braced my 
moral fibre I cannot fully describe. 

“I also read the ‘Life’ of Dante, and some of his 
works. What appealed to me most of all was his 
great love for Beatrice. His case was similiar to my 


19 


Silent Expression 

own. He loved her, and yet he lost her, for she mar¬ 
ried another. How well I remember these words of 
his: 

‘When I had lost the first delight of my soul I remained 
so pierced with sadness that no comforts availed me any¬ 
thing, yet after some time my mind sought to return to the 
method by which other disconsolate ones had sought con¬ 
solation, and I set myself to read that little known book 
of Boetius in which he consoled himself when a prisoner 
and an exile.’ 

“Thus I found in Dante a soul akin to my own. He 
plummed all the depths of misery, and yet his great 
love for his lost Beatrice was like a burning and a 
shining light, as my love for Helen has been to me. 

“At last the day came when I was given my free¬ 
dom. To me life in the bustling city was abhorrent. 
My mind craved the quietness of the country. With a 
little money which had been lying for years in a bank, 
I bought this place by the river. I had a special reason 
for settling here, for about two miles away the Pres¬ 
tons have their summer home. Thus from time to 
time I might be able to see Helen. My beard, which 
I have allowed to grow, makes a good disguise, and 
as John Stone, the carpenter, she would never recog¬ 
nize me as Nathan Strong, the man she once knew, 
and, I think, loved. The people here are friendly and 
kind, so I have plenty of work to do. If they knew 
that I am a jail-bird it might make a difference. But 
that is a secret which I shall keep until the time when 
the mystery of those stolen bonds is cleared up, if 
ever that shall be. When I have made some money 
I hope to begin the task, but just how I shall go 
about it I do not know. But I am determined to do 
all in my power to clear my name and bring the 


20 The Master Revenge 

guilty ones to justice. Anyway, I am near Helen at 
last. I did not know until this evening that she was 
in the neighborhood. I must see her again, but when 
and where? I can hardly contain myself. I want to 
look closer at her, to behold her face and those won¬ 
derful eyes of hers. If I should unexpectedly meet 
her, I wonder how I should act. But I must control 
myself, and never let her know that John Stone is 
anything more to her than a humble carpenter.” 

The writing suddenly ceased, and the man rose 
abruptly from his chair. A smile overspread his face 
as he gazed down upon the sheets of paper lying upon 
the table. 

“There, I have unburdened my soul,” he commented 
with a sigh. “Perhaps it was foolish, but it seemed 
as if I were speaking to someone. It is done, anyway, 
so that is the end of it.” 

He reached out, seized the sheets in his right hand, 
crushed them together, and tossed them into a box near 
the table. He then went out upon the verandah, and 
drank in great draughts of the fresh night air. The 
sky was cloudless, and silence lay upon river and land. 
He looked to the right in the direction of the Preston 
house, and his sole thought was of her, who, though 
near, was yet so far away. 


CHAPTER 2 


Mutual Need 

A DJOINING his house Nathan Strong had built 
k his workshop, and here he spent most of his 
time when at home. It was a cosy place and he liked 
to be here. The people of the neighborhood were glad 
to have a skilled carpenter in their midst, and supplied 
him with plenty of work. There were many thi'ngs 
to make and repair, from axe handles and whiffle-trees 
to doors, windows, cupboards and lockers. Even 
broken woodboxes were sent to him, and occasionally 
a baby’s crib or high chair. He enjoyed doing such 
work, and as his prices were always moderate, the 
people were satisfied. 

The morning after his silent confession he entered 
his shop later than usual. He had not slept well dur¬ 
ing the night, he felt somewhat tired. A peculiar in¬ 
difference possessed him, and he did not care whether 
he worked or idled. Life seemed unusually barren 
to him this morning, and the tide of hope flowed low. 
He was feeling the reaction from his excitement of 
the previous evening. He missed the imperative prison 
urge which for years had driven him forward to his 
daily tasks. Now he could do just as he wished, and 
his wish this morning was to do nothing. What rea¬ 
son was there for him to work except to earn enough 
for his daily wants? He had only himself to consider, 
21 


22 The Master Revenge 

and no one was depending upon him. What did it 
matter, anyway, whether he lived or died? 

He thought of these things as he turned mechanically 
toward a partly-finished cupboard. He was making 
it for his neighbors, the Martins up the road, as pay¬ 
ment for farm produce he had obtained from them. 
They had been exceptionally good to him, so he 
wished to make as fine a cupboard as possible. He 
had never made such a thing before, but he was fash¬ 
ioning this according to one he well remembered in his 
old home. The recollection of the past swept upon him 
as he thought of how his mother had always kept her 
pies, cakes and frosted doughnuts stored away in that 
old cupboard. What a wonderful and mysterious 
place that always was to him, especially at Christmas. 
How happy all were in the dear old home, and never 
did he then dream of the trouble that lay ahead. He 
thought of his parents, and how their hearts were 
broken through his imprisonment, although he was 
sure that they believed him to be innocent. His right 
hand clutched hard upon the hammer he was holding, 
and a scornful expression appeared upon his face. 
Where was the justice of which men boasted? he asked 
himself. Why should an innocent man be punished for 
the guilt of others, and saintly people, such as his 
parents, have their gray heads bowed with sorrow? 
He knew that in his old home village his name was a 
byword of scorn, and that parents held him up as a 
warning to their children. And his father and mother 
had silently endured that for years! But he would 
clear his name. He would unravel the mystery and 
prove to the world that he had been wrongly treated. 
Yes, that was something to live for. The good old 


Mutual Need 23 

name of Strong, which hitherto had been the watch¬ 
word of honor, would again be vindicated. 

This resolve aroused him from his lethargy to a 
brisk activity, and he set earnestly to work upon the 
cupboard. Every nail he drove home, and every swish 
of the plane spoke of his intense energy. He was a 
new man now, with his indifference of an hour before 
gone. 

It was about the middle of the forenoon when 
Nathan heard a peculiar sound outside, which resembled 
children’s voices, mingled with a strange grating noise. 
Stepping to the door, he saw a boy leading a little girl 
with one hand while with the other he was pulling a 
small waggon. The two rear wheels were gone, thus 
causing the tail end of the vehicle to drag upon the 
ground. The girl was whimpering, and the boy was 
doing his best to comfort her. He was hot and tired, 
but bore up bravely against his difficulties. 

“Don’t cry, Doris,” he was saying. “I can’t haul 
you in the waggon. Don’t you see it is broken? The 
carpenter will fix it up for us, and then I can haul you 
home.” 

Seeing Nathan standing in the doorway, his face 
brightened, and he hurried forward. 

“Hello! had an accident?” Nathan asked. 

“Yep. Bust two wheels. Will you fix ’em?” 

“Where are they?” 

“In there,” and the boy motioned to the waggon. 
“Mum said she guessed you can fix anyhing, so that’s 
why we’re here.” 

Nathan at once examined the waggon with critical 
eyes. 

“Ah, I see,” he remarked. “The axle is broken; 
that’s the trouble.” 


24 The Master Revenge 

“Can you fix it?” the boy eagerly inquired. 

“Oh, I think so, though it will take me quite a 
while. Suppose I patch it up now, and you can come 
again in the morning when I shall have more time. I 
must get a couple of bolts at the store.” 

“Will it cost much?” 

“No, I guess not.” 

“Will five cents do? That’s all I’ve got.” 

“Yes, that will be plenty, perhaps too much.” 

Nathan meant what he said. He loved children, and 
he longed to have them always about him. But hitherto 
not one had ever come to his house, although he had 
often talked with them when he met them on the road, 
and they all knew him as their friend. But now a 
start had been made, and this little lad had come to 
him for assistance. It was the day for which he had 
been eagerly waiting, and he was determined to make 
the most of it. He believed that children should be 
treated in the right manner, and that it was wrong to 
deal with them in the spirit of superior condescension. 
He had seen too much of that at the Penitentiary. He 
knew how galling it was to listen to the remarks of 
well-intentioned but mistaken people as they talked to 
the prisoners who were at their mercy. And he be¬ 
lieved that children’s resentment was just as keen. He 
often recalled his own humiliation when a child at 
people who smiled good-naturedly at his words, and 
patted his head. He had resented their superior airs, 
and was certain that they did not know much. This 
lad was now before him. He had approached him in 
a straight-forward, business-like way, and so deserved 
every consideration. He offered to pay all that he was 
able, and could anyone do more? When Nathan said 


25 


Mutual Need 

that perhaps five cents was too much he was in earnest. 
How willing he would have been to pay for the privi¬ 
lege of having children come to him in their time of 
need. His soul called out for them. Their talk was 
the sweetest of music in his ears, and their graceful 
and unstudied movements appealed to his artistic 
nature. 

In a few minutes the little girl’s tears were dried, 
and she was upon the floor of the workshop lost in 
the wonders of the shavings and several pieces of the 
sawn-off ends of boards. With these she played to her 
heart’s content, and ere long her brother joined her. 
Seeing how delighted they were with such things, 
Nathan sawed for them a heap of blocks, and cleared 
a space on the floor where they could build houses and 
wonderful structures of all kinds. He then turned his 
attention to the broken axle. He was in no hurry to 
mend this, as he wished to keep the children with him 
as long as possible. It was midday when at last it was 
finished, and reluctantly he told the boy that it would 
serve for a while. 

“Perhaps you had better go now,” he said. “Your 
mother will be anxious about you. But come again in 
the morning and I shall have a new axle ready.” 

At once the boy rose to his feet, fumbled in his 
trouser’s pocket, and brought forth a five-cent piece. 
This he handed forth. 

“Will the new axle cost more’n that?” he asked. “If 
it will, Mum will let me have some more.” 

“No, no, this will be plenty,” Nathan assured. 

“But you have to get the bolts at the store.” 

“This will be enough, so do not worry.” 

Nathan took the coin, and as his hand closed over 


26 


The Master Revenge 

it, a peculiar feeling swept through his being. He 
longed to give it back, but decided to keep it. He 
wanted that coin very much. To him it was almost a 
sacred thing, of more value than many dollars. It 
was to him the outward symbol of the innocent trust 
and simplicity of a little lad. He was determined never 
to part with that money, the first he had ever received 
from a child. 

After the children had gone, with their waggon well- 
filled with blocks, and Doris perched on top, Nathan 
stood for some time at the door of his shop holding the 
five-cent piece in his hand. At length he turned, went 
into the house, and brought down a small box from a 
shelf above the kitchen table. This he opened and 
dropped in the coin among a few trinkets he had always 
preserved as precious mementoes of the past. After 
that, he prepared and ate his dinner. At times he 
glanced up at the box, and a tender light shone in his 
eyes. Thus in a most unexpected manner he had found 
something real to live for, and his heart was happier 
than it had been years. 

Nathan did some work that afternoon upon the cup¬ 
board, but part of the time he was busy making a new 
axle for the waggon. He knew the exact measure¬ 
ments, and he chose a well-seasoned piece of wood for 
his purpose. Only the best must be used, and he 
shaped and carved it with the greatest care. He 
smoothed out every uneven spot with the spoke-shave, 
and then sandpapered the wood until it was as smooth 
as velvet. He fitted on the wheels, and tested them 
most critically to make sure that they revolved true. 
He spent much more than time, labor and skill upon 
that little axle. He put into it his heart; the best that 


Mutual Need 


27 


was in him, and, perhaps, for no one but a little child 
would Nathan, the carpenter, have done such a thing. 

That evening he went to the store, and bought two 
bolts. But his purchase did not end there, for he 
bought also a pound of the choicest chocolates he could 
obtain. The storekeeper eyed him curiously as he 
wrapped up the box. 

“Getting a sweet tooth all of a sudden, Mr. Stone?” 
he asked. 

Nathan pretended not to hear as he seized the pack¬ 
age, left the building, and hurried down the road. He 
was really embarrassed, and his heart beat fast. But 
there was compensation in the thought of the joy that 
would come in the morning when two little ones would 
again visit him. 

He sat for some time that night upon the verandah, 
smoking, and gazing thoughtfully out upon the river. 
He was in a happy frame of mind. A vision of two 
small curly heads was ever before him, and childish 
voices sounded in his ears. They needed him, the 
jail-bird, and they had come to him for assistance. He 
was of some use in the world, after all. The thought 
thrilled his soul. As a carpenter, his neighbors natu¬ 
rally needed him, but not in the same sense as did those 
little ones. They gave him something which he valued 
far more than anything else. 

Before going to bed that night, Nathan rescued the 
crumpled sheets of paper from the box where he had 
carelessly tossed them. He smoothed them out with 
considerable care, and read the words he had written 
the previous evening. As he finished, he picked up his 
pen. 

“I have at last found something real to live for,” he 
wrote. “Children have sought me out. They need 


28 


The Master Revenge 

me, and I need them. To-day I mended a little broken 
waggon and in doing so I myself have been greatly 
helped.” 

This time Nathan did not crumple up the sheets of 
paper, but left them in full view upon the table. 


CHAPTER 3 


An Accident 

N ATHAN was at work early the next morning. 

His step was brisk, and his every movement 
spoke of alertness. He even whistled softly as he gave 
the finishing touches to the cupboard. This was some¬ 
thing unusual for him. But his heart was light, for 
were not the children coming to see him again? The 
package of chocolates was lying on the window-sill just 
back of the work-bench, that it might be handy when 
needed. When a couple of hours had passed and the 
children had not arrived, he wondered what could be 
keeping them. He listened intently to every sound, and 
several times went to the door and looked out. Once he 
left the shop and stood watching up the road, expecting 
to see them appear at any minute. But when no sign of 
them could be seen, he walked slowly and thoughtfully 
back. Perhaps they would not come at all, he mused. 
Something else might have attracted their attention, or 
their mother might have decided that the waggon would 
do as it was without a new axle. He knew Mrs. Wat¬ 
ters, a widow, by sight, and that Tom and Doris were 
her only children. 

When midday arrived and the little ones had not 
come, Nathan was certain that he would not see them 
that day, and he was greatly disappointed. He longed 
to know the reason, and as he ate his dinner, he was 
partly tempted to go to Mrs. Watters’ house, take the 

29 


30 


The Master Revenge 

axle he had made, and place it on the waggon there. 
He would have a good excuse for doing so, he reasoned, 
and surely the widow could not object. He would thus 
find out, at any rate, why the children had not come 
back. 

He had just returned to his workshop, when the 
patter of bare feet was heard outside, and the next 
minute Tom stood in the doorway. He was panting 
heavily, and his eyes were big and red. Instantly 
Nathan knew that something was wrong, and the plane 
he was holding in his hand dropped upon the work¬ 
bench. 

“What is the matter?” he asked. 

“D-doris is hurt!” the boy gasped. “Broke her leg!” 

“Broke her leg!” Nathan exclaimed. “How ?” 

“Gettin’ over the fence. A pole rolled on top of her.” 

“Where is she now ?” 

“Home. Mum phoned fer the doctor, an' he’s cornin’ 
as fast as he can.” 

“But why did you come for me?” 

“ ’Cause Doris wants you. She says you can do any¬ 
thing, an’ can mend her leg as ye did the waggon.” 

“Oh, I see.” Nathan looked keenly at the lad, and 
his eyes shone with the light of sympathy. So the little 
girl wanted him! She had more faith in him than she 
did in the doctor. His heart thrilled at the thought, 
and his eyes became somewhat misty. 

“Will y’ go to see her?” the boy asked. 

“Certainly,” Nathan replied, rousing from his . 
reverie. “I shall go with you at once.” 

He was about to close the door of his shop, when he 
noticed the package of chocolates upon the window¬ 
sill. This he seized, pulled the door to after him, and 
accompanied the boy out upon the road. 


An Accident 


31 


“I knew y’d come,” Tom remarked after they had 
gone a short distance. 

“Why?” 

’Cause you was so good to us yesterday. Doris 
talked a lot about you, an’ she played with her blocks 
until bedtime. Too bad, isn’t it, that she’s hurt?” 

“It is. But the doctor will soon make her all right 
again.” 

“Yep, maybe so, but it’ll cost a lot,” and the boy 
sighed. “I just don’t know how Mum’ll pay him. It’s 
as much as she can do now to make both ends meet, so 
she says. Oh, I wish I was a man.” 

Nathan glanced down at the little fellow trudging 
bravely along at his side. He noted the clenched sun¬ 
burned hands, and the look of determination upon his 
face. 

“How old are you, lad?” he asked. 

“Six last August. When I’m seven I can do a lot. 
I’m goin’ to pick blueberries when they get ripe. We 
have a fine patch out in our pasture. But I’ll miss 
Doris a lot, fer she always went with me.” 

“How old is Doris?” j 

“She’s four. But she’s great company out there 
among the bushes. I never feel one bit afraid when 
she’s along.” 

“Why is that?” 

“Oh, I dunno, ’cept that it makes me brave to feel 
that I have to take care of her, an’ would have to fight 
fer her if any bears came along. But here we are right 
at our gate.” 

Mrs. Watters was bending over Doris as they en¬ 
tered the house, and Tom went at once to his sister’s 
side. 


32 


The Master Revenge 

“I’ve got him, Doris,” he announced. “He came 
with me, an’ he’s here.” 

A faint expression of pleasure appeared in the girl’s 
blue eyes as she turned them wistfully upon the visitor. 
Nathan was unused to a situation such as this, and he 
did not know what to say. For a few seconds he stood 
awkwardly in the middle of the room. He then stepped 
quickly forward and held out the package he was hold¬ 
ing in his hand. 

“You like chocolates, don’t you?” he asked. “These 
are all for you.” 

“Oh!” It was all that the child said as she seized 
the treasure and hugged it close to her breast. Her 
suffering was too great for her to attempt to do more. 
Nathan then turned to Mrs. Watters who was standing 
silently by. 

“I am very sorry that Doris has met with this acci¬ 
dent,” he began. “I suppose the doctor will be here 
soon.” 

“I am expecting him at any minute,” was the quiet 
reply. “But Doris wanted to see you first, and it is so 
good of you to come. She and Tom had a most pleasant 
time at your place yesterday, and Doris was looking for¬ 
ward to going again this morning, but, poor child, I am 
afraid it will be many weeks before she can do that.” 

“Is there anything that I can do for her?” Nathan 
inquired. 

“Nothing, except to come to see her as often as you 
can. But there’s the doctor now. His car is at the 
door.” 

With a word to Doris, telling Her to be brave and 
that he would be back again soon, Nathan hurried 
out of the house, passing the doctor on the way. He 
walked rapidly down the road, his thoughts in a whirl. 


An Accident 33 

He felt that he should have stayed to assist the doctor, 
if necessary. But he could not stand to see the suffer¬ 
ing of a little child. In the case of a man it would have 
been different. 

There was something, however, that he felt he could 
do. When he reached home he set earnestly to work, 
and began to carve out a doll from a piece of dry cedar. 
He knew exactly how to do this, for his training at the 
Penitentiary had made him most efficient. But he 
worked now with a care and interest such as he had 
never exhibited before. It was really a wonderful head 
and face he made, and he was quite satisfied when he 
was through and held it at arm’s length for a final in¬ 
spection. That evening by the light on the kitchen table 
he dressed the doll, and he was very busy at this when 
his neighbor, Peter Martin, called. The latter’s eyes 
expressed surprise as he limped toward the chair 
Nathan offered. 

“Well! Well!” he exclaimed, as he placed his old 
felt hat upon the floor by his side, “I never knew be¬ 
fore that ye could do sich work as that.” 

“How does it look?” Nathan asked, holding up the 
doll. 

“Great! An’ ye’ve got her all dressed up, too, jist like 
a fashion-plate. It’s fer some wee gal, I s’pose.” 

“Yes, I’m making it for Mrs. Watters’ little child. 
No doubt you have heard about the accident. 7 * 

“Indeed I have. It’s too bad. Poor Widder Wat¬ 
ters is havin’ a hard time of it, an’ this’ll make it worse 
fer her. She’s got two nice children, an’ she looks after 
’em well, stays at home an’ minds her own business, 
which is more’n many do.” 

“Doris is a sweet child, Mr. Martin, and I am very 
fond of her. I believe she will like this doll, though 


34 


The Master Revenge 

I wish I had some better material for the dress. I 
couldn’t find anything that would do except a couple of 
colored handkerchiefs.” 

“Ye’ve done well, though,” Peter complimented. 
“Martha could let ye have some suitable stuff, fer she’s 
plenty of odds an’ ends about the house. In fact, that’s 
about all we’ve got these days. I s’pose ye wouldn’t 
mind makin’ a doll like that fer my little lass? She’d 
go almost daft over it.” 

“Why, I shall be delighted to make her one,” Nathan 
replied. “But I’m afraid I won’t have time for sev¬ 
eral days, as I expect to be very busy.” 

“Oh, that reminds me why I came over here,” and 
Peter shuffled somewhat impatiently on his chair as he 
spoke. “It’s a message from Ned Preston. I was 
cornin’ by his place this afternoon, when he saw me, an’ 
asked me to tell ye to go down an’ fix his fence which 
was broken last winter.” 

Nathan glanced up quickly from his work, and looked 
keenly at his visitor. 

“When did the Prestons move from the city?” he 
asked as calmly as possible. 

“Jist a few days ago. They’re earlier than usual this 
year.” 

“How did Mr. Preston know about me?” 

“He didn’t until I told him. He wanted me to go 
an’ fix his fence, jist think of that! I tell ye, I felt like 
givin’ him a piece of my mind. But I kept cool an’ 
told him I’d speak to you about doin’ the job.” 

“Why did you feel like giving Mr. Preston a piece 
of your mind? Do you not care for him?” 

“Care fer him!” Peter almost roared the words. “I 
guess if ye knew what he did to me, ye’d know how 
much I care fer him. Look at that, now,” and he 


An Accident 35 

touched his right knee with his hand. That’s what I 
got by workin’ fer Ned Preston.” 

“Why, what did he have to do with your lameness?” 

“Didn’t I ever tell ye ?” 

“You never did. I often wondered, but as it was 
none of my business I did not care to ask you.” 

“Well, I’d soon told ye if ye had. It was due to Ned 
Preston, let me tell ye that. Five winters ago I lum¬ 
bered fer him, an’ cut the finest logs on me place. He 
agreed to give me fifteen dollars a thousand fer ’em 
rafted. I had several men choppin’ all winter, an’ 
fed ’em, too. It cost me a big sum, but I reckoned I’d 
clear up about two thousand dollars on the work. I 
hauled the logs to the brow myself, an’ attended to 
the drive an’ brought down every stick. But the last 
day I slipped an’ a log jammed my knee. It laid me 
up fer almost a year, an’ I’ve been lame ever since. 
That’s what it did.” 

“But how was Preston to blame for that?” Nathan 
questioned, as Peter paused and searched in his pockets 
for his pipe. 

“Oh, he wasn’t to blame fer that, but the way he 
served me afterwards. My men rafted the logs, the 
tug came fer ’em an’ took ’em to the city. But would 
Preston pay me the fifteen dollars he agreed to? Not 
a bit of it. He denied that he had ever offered me that 
amount, so all he would give me was seven dollars a 
thousand.” 

“It was only a verbal agreement, then?” 

“That was all. I didn’t have the scratch of a pen.” 

“You made a big mistake.” 

“I sure did, an’ paid fer it, too. I sued Preston, an’ 
lost. He had money an’ false witnesses on his side, 
so what could I do? I lost not only the two thousand 


36 


The Master Revenge 

dollars cornin’ to me, but I had to sell a fine timber 
tract to pay the lawyers, an’ square up a number of 
bills on my winter’s work. I was lucky to save me 
place.” 

“Preston made well out of those logs, I suppose.” 

“I should say he did. He makes money on every¬ 
thing he touches. If he can’t git it one way, he will 
another. That man will stop at nuthin’. I could tell 
ye of some other mean, contemptible tricks he has 
served upon people. But I must git along now. Martha 
wants me to fix the kitchen stove while the fire is out. 
I shouldn’t be here now, but thought I’d better run 
over with that message from Preston. I called early 
this afternoon, but ye wasn’t home.” 

“When does Preston want me to go?” Nathan asked. 

“As soon as ye can. He always wants people to hop 
when he speaks.” 

“Well, I’m not going to hop, anyway. I shall think 
it over, and if I decide to go, it will not be for a day 
or two. I have some work to do to-morrow for Mr. 
Sanderson.” 

“Very well, suit yerself,” and Peter rose slowly to 
his feet. “I really wouldn’t have brought that message 
but fer Mrs. Preston. She was standin’ by her hus¬ 
band’s side when he spoke to me, an’ she looked at me 
with them wonderful eyes of hers in sich a way that 
I couldn’t very well refuse. So when I promise to do 
a thing, I try to do it.” 

“The influence of women, eh?” 

“It was the influence of Mrs. Preston, an’ not her 
husband, that’s one thing sure. Why, everybody loves 
her as much as they hate him. It’s been a problem to 
me how she ever came to marry a thing like that. 
She’s beautiful, an’ as innocent as a child; ye can tell 


An Accident 37 

that at the first glance, while he’s—oh, well, I guess I’d 
better not say all I know about him. He’s a stranger 
to you, so maybe I shouldn’t have told ye what I have. 
But I couldn t help it to-night. The Parson is always 
tellin’ us what the Bible says about fergivin’ our 
enemies, an no doubt he’s right, an’ we should fergive 
if we expect to be fergiven. But when I see a man 
like Ned Preston struttin’ around, doin’ dirty things, 
an’ gittin’ off with ’em, makin’ money hand over fist, 
and called a prominent citizen, its mighty hard to keep 
still. I want to do what is right, live an’ let live, but 
my religion is often strained to the breaking point.” 

Peter picked up his hat and limped slowly to the 
door. He paused at the threshold and looked back. 

<<Ye won’t fergit to make that doll fer my little lass, 
will ye ?” he asked. "I’ll pay ye well fer it.” 

“No, I won’t forget, Mr. Martin. “Your daughter 
shall have it as soon as possible.” 

Nathan sat for a long time that evening, lost in 
thought. So Ned Preston wanted him to fix his fence! 
But why should he do such a thing? He did not have 
to go, and yet there was a longing to look upon the face 
of the man he had not seen for years. And he might 
see Hele.i, too. He was certain that she would not 
recognize him in his disguise. But could he remain 
calm and natural in her presence, just as if she meant 
nothing to him ? Yes, for her sake he would go. He 
wanted to meet her, so it might as well be now as later. 

He mused also upon Preston’s career. It had been 
a most unenviable one, and yet he had prospered while 
others who had done no wrong were forced to suffer. 
Was there any justice in that ? There suddenly flashed 
into his mind certain words over which he had often 
pondered, and going into the next room he brought 


38 


The Master Revenge 

out his well-worn Bible. This he opened at the thirty- 
seventh Psalm, and began to read: 

“Fret not thyself because of evildoers, neither be thou 
envious against the workers of iniquity. For they shall 
soon be cut down like the grass, and wither as the green 
herb. Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell 
in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.” 

He thus read verse after verse wherein the promise 
of reward is set forth to them that do right, but severe 
punishment to them that do wrong. He paused at the 
thirty-sixth verse, and then read with intense interest, 
and as he read, a new light and meaning flooded his 
mind. 

“I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading 
himself like a green bay tree. Yet he passed away; yea 
I sought him, but he could not be found. Mark the per¬ 
fect man, and behold the upright: for the end of that man 
is peace. 

“Great words,” Nathan commented, as he reverently 
closed the Book. “No doubt they are very true, and 
that all things will come out right at last. But my 
faith, like Peter’s, is strained at times almost to the 
breaking point. Anyway, I am not going to give up 
altogether until I see if those words are applicable to 
the career of Ned Preston. 


CHAPTER 4 


Comrades in Distress 

W HEN Nathan called at Mrs. Watters’ house 
the next morning on his way to work, he had 
with him the doll carefully wrapped up in paper. The 
widow met him at the door, and gave him a bright 
smile of welcome. 

Doris is resting quite comfortably,” she informed 
him in response to his question concerning the child. 

She has been asking for you, and is eagerly awaiting 
your coming.” 

She then conducted him into the room where the 
little one was lying. The latter’s eyes brightened when 
she saw the visitor, and a flush of pleasure mantled her 
cheeks. 

“Feeling better?” Nathan asked as he sat down by 
her side. 

“Some,” was the shy reply. “Tandy was dood.” 
Was it ? I m glad to know that. Have you eaten 
it all?” 

“Not all. Mum an’ Tom eat some.” 

“Have you a doll, Doris ?” 

“I had one time, but it’s gone now.” 

Carefully and slowly Nathan unwrapped the parcel, 
and then held up the doll before the child’s big staring 
eyes. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, as her hands reached out and 
clutched the treasure. 


40 


The Master Revenge 

‘Tor me ?” she murmured. 

“Yes, for you. It is to be your very own.” 

“Did oo make it?” 

“I did, and dressed it, too. But you can make a 
nicer dress if you like.” 

“I like dis dress, oh, so much,” and the girl hugged 
the doll close to her breast. 

Nathan was satisfied, and as he left the house after 
Mrs. Watters had thanked him for his kindness, life 
seemed very pleasant. In fact, all through the day 
as he worked at Mr. Sanderson’s barn there was joy 
in his heart. His deed of kindness to a little suffering 
child had transformed the world to him. And as he 
walked home after supper the sky appeared brighter, 
and the wild flowers along the way more beautiful than 
ever. His step was lighter, and he held his head very 
erect. 

From this region of enchantment he was suddenly 
brought back to earth when he reached Bill Tooke’s 
house. It was a ramshackle abode close to the high¬ 
way, the ground surrounding it being littered with 
refuse, from rags to battered tin cans. Bill himself 
was a useless creature, a menace to the community. He 
did a few odd jobs now and again, fished a little, hunted 
and trapped in season and out. His two acres of 
starved land produced a meagre supply of hay for his 
one slab-sided cow, and a few vegetables for his family. 
He stole anything upon which he could lay his hands, 
and the neighbors knew it. But they were afraid of 
him, fearful lest he set fire to their barns and houses 
should they take action against him. Some, therefore, 
secured their barns and sheds with strong padlocks, 
while others kept watch dogs. Bill was a fluent talker, 


41 


Comrades in Distress 

and justified his manner of living by referring to others 
who had made their money in questionable ways. 

Look at them big fellers,” he would sometimes say. 
“They don’t work with their hands, but jist use their 
brains to rob others. They git off with it, merchants, 
contractors, an’ politicans alike. They all do it, an’ call 
it high finance’ or some other name. They have their 
fine houses, big cars, an’ are looked up to as leadin’ 
citizens. That’s the way Ned Preston made his money, 
even though he is a judge’s son. The world owes me 
a livin’ jist as much as it does them suckers.” 

But notwithstanding this course of reasoning, Bill 
was not able to produce much except a brood of half- 
naked and half-starved children. Several of these were 
in front of the house as Nathan drew near. They were 
deeply interested in some special object, so he stopped 
to learn what was attracting their attention. He found 
that it was a red squirrel they had captured, and had 
it confined in a little wooden box. The poor creature 
was panting with fear, and as Nathan looked upon it 
through the wire bars, he thought of his own unjust 
imprisonment. It stirred within him a deep sympathy 
for the caged animal, so he asked the boys to let it out. 
But they only grinned, and one lad poked the squirrel 
with a stick which made it jump to one side of the cage 
in fright. Nathan was upon the point of taking pos¬ 
session by main force and liberating the animal. But 
upon second thought, he decided not to do so. Instead, 
he thrust his hand into a pocket and brought forth a 
fifty-cent piece. This he held out to the boys. 

“I will give you this for the squirrel,” he told them. 

Eagerly the urchins agreed, and in another minute 
Nathan was hurrying down the road, carrying the box 
in his hands. He did not once look back. But had 


42 


The Master Revenge 

he done so, he would have seen the Tooke boys in 
earnest conversation, and had he heard what they were 
saying, he would have been much disturbed. This in¬ 
cident drove the pleasant thoughts out of his mind, and 
stirred his heart with indignation. What the boys had 
done to that squirrel men had done to him. Why were 
such things permitted? he asked himself. Why should 
the innocent be forced to suffer ? Such thoughts 
burned in his soul as he sped on his way, heeding no 
longer the beauty of the flowers, nor the peace upon 
river and land. 

At length he reached his own house, and at the 
door he placed the box gently upon the ground, and 
peered in at the trembling captive. 

'‘You poor little creature,” he began. “It is no 
wonder that you are frightened. But you are safe 
with me, and you shall have your freedom. Surely 
the world is big enough for us all, so why should we 
interfere with one another?” 

He then opened the door, but the squirrel shrank 
back. 

“Come forth, little comrade,” Nathan encouraged, 
“and enjoy life to the full. You were made for the 
great open spaces, and not for a cramped box like this.” 

As if it understood these words, the squirrel crept 
cautiously to the opening, peered for an instant outside, 
and then with a rush bounded from its prison, sped 
across the open space, and scurried nimbly up the 
nearest tree. It reached a high branch, and there it 
sat for a few minutes looking keenly down upon the 
watching man below. Then it opened its mouth and 
poured forth such a torrent of jargon that Nathan 
was compelled to laugh outright. 

“Hi, there, you little beggar,” he cried. “What are 


Comrades in Distress 


43 


you saying, anyway? You may be thanking me, but it 
sounds like the biggest scolding I ever got. Keep it 
up, old fellow, if it will do you any good.” 

He turned to go into the house, but noticing the 
cage at his feet, he gave it a savage kick, which smashed 
it to pieces. 

“I wish I could do the same with all such things,” 
he vehemently declared. “And I am going to do what 
I can.” 

That night he again picked up his pen and added 
the following to the partly-filled sheet of paper lying 
upon his writing-table: 

“This has been an eventful day to me. I made a 
little girl happy this morning, and this evening I rescued 
a squirrel from its captors and set it free. In doing 
these two simple deeds I have been wonderfully re¬ 
warded, and to-night my heart is filled with a blessed 
peace. Perhaps my imprisonment has made me very 
sympathetic for all who are in distress, especially God’s 
helpless little creatures. What greater happiness can 
I now find in life than continuing such work? There 
may be many, I feel sure, right around me who need 
my assistance. My world which I thought was so 
small, is becoming larger, and my interest in all living 
things is increasing in a wonderful manner. I can now 
look forward to each day as a new adventure with many 
possibilities for doing good. I can thus serve, if I 
can do nothing else.” 

Nathan slept well that night, and awoke the next 
morning fresh and eager for the new duties awaiting 
him. He had a plow handle to make for Mr. Sander¬ 
son, so that would take part of the forenoon. He 
worked with a hearty goodwill, at times whistling or 
humming an old familiar tune. He was almost through 


44 


The Master Revenge 

with his task, and was vigorously applying the sand¬ 
paper, when three of the Tooke boys suddenly appeared 
at the door. Each carried a box containing a fright¬ 
ened squirrel. Nathan looked at the three grinning 
lads for a few seconds, and then the meaning of their 
visit flashed into his mind. 

“Why have you brought those squirrels here?” he 
demanded. 

“Fer you t’buy,” one of the boys explained. “Ye 
like squirrels, I guess, so ye kin have these three fer 
fifty cents a piece.” 

“I don’t want them,” Nathan quietly replied. “The 
one I bought from you last night I let go. Suppose 
you do the same with these. Let the poor things out.” 

“Not on yer life, Mister. We want money. If ye 
won’t give us any, we’ll kill the squirrels. They’re a 
nuisance.” 

“In what way are they a nuisance ?” 

“Oh, they steal things, an’ run all over the house, 
so Ma says.” 

“Well, then, suppose you let them go here. I don’t 
mind how much they steal from me. I like to have the 
little fellows around. They can run over my house all 
they want to.” 

“Naw, ye can’t have ’em. We’ll take ’em home an’ 
kill ’em. Their skins make good ear-tabs fer our caps 
in winter. But we’d rather sell ’em an’ git the money.” 

Nathan realised that it was useless to argue with 
these boys any longer. Roughness was the only thing 
they understood, as they had been accustomed to it all 
their lives. 

“Put those boxes down upon the ground,” he sternly 
ordered. 


Comrades in Distress 45 

Seeing that the man was in earnest, the boys shrank 
back, and were about to run away, when Nathan stepped 
quickly forward, seized the boxes from their hands, 
and tore open the doors. The next instant the squirrels 
were free and scampering off among the trees. With 
cries of rage, the three boys faced the liberator. 

“You’ll git paid fer this,” one of them yelled. “Jist 
wait till dad gits after ye. He’ll fix ye a’right.” 

“Your dad can come whenever he wants to,” Nathan 
retorted, as he seized a hammer from the bench and 
smashed the boxes to pieces. “Now, clear out, and 
don’t let me ever hear of you catching squirrels again.” 

So stern were the words, and so fierce was the car¬ 
penter’s appearance, that the boys fled rapidly toward 
the road. There they stopped, shouted back words of 
defiance, and threw stones at the house, one of which 
broke a pane of glass. The crash frightened the lads, 
so they hurried away as fast as their legs could carry 
them. 

Nathan stood for a while in the doorway, gazing in 
the direction the boys had gone. His eyes glowed with 
the fire of indignation, and his body trembled from the 
vehemence of his emotion. He was in no mood for 
work, so after he had prepared and eaten his dinner, 
he sat upon the verandah and smoked for some time. 

“I forgot one very important thing,” he at length 
mused aloud. “In my ideal for doing good I over¬ 
looked the perversity of human nature. I must expect 
opposition. I have stirred up the Tooke nest, and no 
doubt the brood will try to come back at me in some 
underhanded way. But I am not afraid of them, even 
though their neighbors are. I have only myself to 
consider, and if Tooke senior goes too far he might 


46 


The Master Revenge 

find out his mistake. It would be for the good of the 
community if the entire bunch could be rooted out/’ 

That afternoon Nathan went up the road to deliver 
the plow handle to Mr. Sanderson. As he passed the 
Tooke house he noticed the two little windows facing 
the highway filled with dirty faces, although no one 
appeared outside. But as he returned an hour later, 
Bill Tooke was sitting on a stone by the side of the road. 
Nathan suspected that the man was waiting for him, 
and he braced himself for the interview. As he ap¬ 
proached, and was about to pass with the customary 
“good-day,” Bill slouched forward and confronted him. 

“What about them squirrels an’ cages?” he de¬ 
manded. 

“Well, what about them?” Nathan asked. 

“Oh, you know, a’right, what ye did to ’em.” 

“Yes, I do, and I shall do the same to all others that 
I can get my hands on.” 

“Is that so? But before ye go any furder, I want 
ye to pay fer the boxes ye smashed this mornin’, an’ 
fer the squirrels, too. I want jist five dollars. That’ll 
settle any difference between you an’ me.” 

“H’m, you’ll have to be satisfied with wanting, for 
not a cent will I pay. Your boys broke a window in 
my house, so I might very well demand payment for 
that.” 

“An’ ye’ll have more winders broken if ye don’t 
hustle an’ hand out that money.” 

“What do you mean by that?” 

“I guess you know, a’right, what I mean. If ye 
don’t want me to smash that mug of yours, ye’d better 
git a move on.” 

“Perhaps two can play at that game. But look here, 


Comrades in Distress 47 

Mr. looke, what’s the use of our fighting? Let us 
settle this matter peaceably.” 

“Only when ye pay me five dollars will there be 
peace.” 

“But suppose I won’t pay?” 

“Then ye’ll have to take the consequences.” 

“Well, I won’t pay, so that’s the end of it.” 

No, it isn’t, by a long chalk,” Bill replied with an 
oath, aiming at the same time a savage blow at Nathan’s 
head. 

Although taken by surprise, the latter with a quick 
movement warded the blow, and in return sent a smash¬ 
ing upper-cut to his assailant’s jaw. Bill went down 
like a log, and lay on the road for a few seconds. He 
then slowly lifted himself on all fours, and rose un¬ 
steadily to his feet. He glared at his opponent, but 
made no effort to resume the fight. 

“Do you want some more of that?” Nathan asked. 
“If you do, come right along. I’m just getting warmed 
up.” 

“Naw, I don’t,” Bill sullenly replied, as he rubbed 
his jaw.” “I didn’t expect ye’d hit like that, h—if I 
did.” 

“You thought I would stand here and let you thump 
me without defending myself, did you? Well, then, 
you were mistaken, for I am not built that way. You 
attacked me on the King’s highway, and I could have 
you arrested. But I am not going to do so if you be¬ 
have yourself. Let us shake hands and be friends.” 

Nathan held out his right hand, but Bill refused to 
take it. He slouched off the road and made his way 
slowly to his house. As he reached the door, he paused, 
turned around and shook his fist at his enemy. 


48 


The Master Revenge 

“Ye got the better of me this time,” he roared. “But 
I’ll git ye some day, an’ when I do, I’ll fix ye.” 

Nathan made no reply. He had already started down 
the road, and until he was out of hearing his ears were 
assailed with oaths, whoops, and yells of defiance from 
the Tooke brood. 


CHAPTER 5 


Repairing the Fence 

T HE Preston house was a large one, surrounded 
by spacious, well-kept grounds. It was a beauti¬ 
ful spot, the admiration of all who beheld it. There 
were large trees in abundance, and smaller ones re¬ 
cently planted. A picket fence divided this place from 
the adjoining lot, which had been seriously damaged 
by storms the previous winter. The fence had not 
been properly made at first, and this Nathan at once 
noted as he began to repair it early Monday morning. 

He had looked forward to this work with consider¬ 
able misgivings. He felt sure that he would meet 
Helen, and would be forced to speak to her. His beard 
would disguise his face, but his voice might betray him. 
That morning as he looked into his small mirror a 
sudden idea flashed into his mind. He would disguise 
his voice by affecting a nasal twang, and he would also 
“murder” the English language. If he did this he was 
quite certain that Helen would not recognize in John 
Stone, the carpenter, Nathan Strong, the man who 
once had meant so much to her. 

He had been at work for about an hour when he 
saw Helen come out of the house with her two children. 
She looked more charming than on Sunday, so Nathan 
thought, as his eyes gave her a fleeting glance. Clad in 
a simple white dress, she seemed almost youthful in 
appearance. Would she come his way? he wondered, 
49 


50 


The Master Revenge 

as he bent his head, and with an unsteady hand drove 
in a nail. He was not left long in doubt, however, for 
as soon as the children saw him, they gave a shout of 
delight and hurried toward him. The mother followed 
slowly after, stopping on the way to pick a lilac from 
a bush along the gravel walk. She was inhaling the 
perfume when she came near to where Nathan was 
standing. The latter pretended not to see her as he 
bent to fit a picket into its place. The children were 
watching him with wide-open eyes. They inherited 
their mother’s beauty in face, eyes and hair. The boy 
was about six and the girl four. Mrs. Preston smiled 
upon them, and placed an arm lovingly about her son. 

“I am going to be a carpenter when I am a man,” 
the boy declared. 

“You might do worse,” was the quiet reply. “Don’t 
you think so, Mr. Stone ?” 

Nathan thus accosted, straightened himself slowly 
up, and looked into the woman’s eyes. 

“It’s an honest trade, madam,” he drawled, “an’, as 
ye say, the boy might do worse.” 

For a fleeting instant a peculiar expression appeared 
in the woman’s eyes, and a perceptible color mounted 
to her cheeks. She then smiled, as if at what the car¬ 
penter had said, but in reality at the foolish notion that 
had come into her mind. 

“I am glad to get this fence fixed,” she said. “It has 
been an eye-sore to me ever since we arrived. I hope 
you had no trouble in finding the pickets. Mr. Preston 
is away from home, else he would have shown you 
where they were.” 

“Oh, I had no trouble, madam. The gal there in the 
kitchen showed me where to find ’em. She’s some lass, 
that.” 


51 


Repairing the Fence 

Nathan again bent and nailed on the picket. It 
brought back old memories to hear Helen talk, and her 
voice sounded as sweet as ever. His heart was beating 
so fast that he believed she could hear it. He longed 
for her to stay, and yet he wanted her to go away. He 
could not feel sure of himself in her presence, and his 
tongue might betray him if he said too much. 

“When you get through with this fence I wish you 
would do some work for me in the house,” Mrs. Pres¬ 
ton remarked. “Several pantry shelves need repairing, 
and while you are here it is a good opportunity to get 
the work done. I hope you will have time.” 

“Time is nuthin’ to me, madam, when it comes to 
repairin’ things. That’s my work. I’m alius on the 
lookout fer a job, watchin’ the bend in the road, as the 
parson said in his sermon.” 

“So you were in church yesterday, were you?” 

“Sure. I alius go. Me an’ the parson are good 
friends. He alius says somethin’ worth listenin’ to.” 

“He certainly does, Mr. Stone. That sermon ap¬ 
pealed to me very much. I suppose we are all watching 
the bend in the road, always expecting the golden van 
to appear, as Mr. Westmore said.” 

“Seems to me that your golden van has already come 
round the bend,” Nathan replied, as he stooped for 
another picket. “With sich a fine place as this, an¬ 
other in the city, an’ with two sich beautiful little chil¬ 
dren as these, what more could any woman want? 
Now, with me it’s different. I ain’t got wife nor chick, 
nuthin’ ’cept a small bit of land, an’ a poor house.” 

“But you have a big heart, Mr. Stone. Why, we 
have all heard of the wonderful doll you made for little 
Doris Watters, and how you rescued the squirrels from 
the Tooke boys.” 


52 


The Master Revenge 

“So ye heard about that!” Nathan nearly forgot 
his drawl in his astonishment. 

“Oh, yes. Mattie, our kitchen girl, has been telling 
Donnie and Ruth all about it. They have made her 
tell it to them over and over again. That is why they 
are so interested in you, and look upon you as a hero. 
When they heard that you were coming to repair this 
fence, they were delighted. You notice how they are 
watching your every movement.” 

“Ye heard also about my scrap with Bill Tooke, I 
s’pose ?” Nathan queried. 

“We did, and I hope it will teach him a lesson. But 
he is an evil-minded man, so may try to seek revenge 
in some underhanded manner. But, there, I have kept 
you from your work. It is past breakfast time, and 
everything will be cold. Come, dears,” and she turned 
to the children, “you may come again and watch Mr. 
Stone.” 

As the three walked away toward the house, Nathan 
bent to his task with renewed energy. He was deeply 
stirred by this unexpected conversation with the woman 
he loved, and her concern on his behalf. But it was 
just like Helen, he well knew. She had not changed in 
her simplicity of manner and interest in the welfare of 
those around her. She had always done so since he had 
first known her. She was always more ready to con¬ 
verse with t*he humblest rough-clad toilers than with 
those of wealth and position. Her friends had often 
bantered her about her fondness for such people. 

“I like the'm,” she had always replied. “To me they 
are all so genuine, different from many I meet in the 
so-called superior class.” 

Nathan ate his dinner in the kitchen, and Mattie 
waited upon him with special attention. He had seen 


53 


Repairing the Fence 

the girl before, as her home was up the road. She was 
a good and faithful worker, but her fondness for gossip 
was well known. Not a thing happened in the neigh¬ 
borhood that Mattie did not know of it, and she spread 
the news as fast as possible. Her likes and dislikes 
were intense, so knowing her as they did, most people 
endeavored to keep in her good graces. 

“I’m going to give you a special dinner to-day,” she 
declared, as Nathan took his seat at the table. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” was the smiling reply. “But 
why? What have I done to make you give me a 
special dinner?” 

“Because of what you did to Bill Tooke. I hope 
you broke his jaw when you knocked him down. My! 
how I wish I had been there when the thing flopped 
upon the road.” 

“You evidently don’t like Bill.” 

“Like him! Like that snake ? I guess not. I don’t 
know anybody who does. But you must be careful, 
Mr. Stone. He’s a snake, all right, and he’ll wait to 
get back at you. Oh, I know him.” 

“This is not a lawless country, remember,” Nathan 
replied. “Most likely Bill will think twice before he 
tries to injure me. But if he does, I am well able to 
take care of myself.” 

“Maybe so,” and the girl doubtfully shook her head. 
“Anyway, I advise you to be on your guard.” 

It took Nathan the whole of the afternoon to repair 
the fence. It was tedious work, for in some places 
he had to set in new pieces of scantling. The only 
time he lost was when he paused to saw some little 
blocks for Donnie and Ruth. They were delighted 
with these, and in their eyes the carpenter was a greater 
man than ever. This was during the early part of 


54 


The Master Revenge 

the afternoon. The mother had at length called them, 
and they went away with her down across the field 
toward the river. 

Nathan had the fence almost finished when they 
returned. It was nearly six o’clock, and he wished 
to have supper in his own house. Mrs. Preston stopped 
to admire the fence, and congratulated Nathan upon 
his work. 

“You will come to-morrow to repair those shelves, 
will you not ?” she asked. 

“Yes, madam, I’ll be on hand if nuthin’ stops me, 
sich as Bill Tooke, fer instance. One kin never tell 
jist what’s round the bend in the road.” 

“That’s quite true, Mr. Stone. The unexpected al¬ 
ways lies ahead. I have been thinking very much 
about that sermon to-day, and—” 

She ceased abruptly as the sound of an approaching 
auto was heard. 

“It’s daddy!” Donnie cried. “Come, Ruth, let’s go 
and meet him.” 

Nathan turned and looked at the car which was now 
coming up the driveway. He then shot a swift glance 
at Helen, and noted that the bright, smiling expression 
had vanished from her face, and in its stead was a 
look of serious concern. She walked slowly away, and 
reached the car just as her husband alighted. He 
spoke to her rather sharply, so Nathan thought, al¬ 
though he could not understand what he said. He paid 
no attention to the children, but started at once toward 
Nathan. The latter stooped and began to pick up his 
tools. His heart was stirred with anger at what he 
had just beheld. What would not he give could he go 
home and find Helen awaiting him with two such 
charming little ones? But Preston seemed to think 


Repairing the Fence 55 

nothing of them. He was more interested in the fence 
than he was in his family. 

“Got the fence done?” 

Nathan straightened himself up at this question, 
turned and looked at Preston’s coarse, flabby face. 

Yaas, guess she’ll do fer a while,” he drawled. 
“She was purty badly busted. Would ye like fer me 
to give her a coat of paint ?” 

Preston, however, made no response. He stood 
staring as if he had seen a ghost. His eyes bulged, 
and his face twitched. He then emitted a hollow! 
mirthless laugh, and turned to his wife who was stand¬ 
ing by his side. 

“Did you hear what this fellow said?” he asked. 
“He wants to give her a coat of paint,” and he mo¬ 
tioned to the fence. “I never knew what sex a fence is 
before. Come on, let’s go into the house. I’m almost 
starved.” 

Nathan at once picked up his tools and started for 
home. He knew that Preston had recognized him, and 
that his laugh and reference to the fence were merely 
a weak attempt to cover up his confusion. Nathan was 
deeply annoyed. He felt that the secret would soon 
be known throughout the entire parish, and he would 
be placed in a very awkward position. 


CHAPTER 6 


A Broken Shaft 

N ATHAN was late getting to sleep that night, as 
his mind was greatly agitated by the events of 
the day. He felt certain that Helen was unhappy, 
and he could not forget how the expression upon her 
face had suddenly changed upon the arrival of her 
husband. What was the meaning of it? he asked him¬ 
self. Was Preston cruel to her? He well knew that 
the fellow was bad, but he could hardly imagine that 
he would treat such a woman as his wife in a cruel 
manner. He knew that Ned had recognized him as 
Nathan Strong, and he wondered what would be the 
outcome of it all. Would he tell his wife? And if 
he did, would her heart be stirred with any tender 
memories of bygone days ? 

He was awakened toward morning by the heavy roll 
of thunder. A storm was sweeping up from the west, 
and in a few minutes it was directly overhead. It was 
the heaviest of the season. The crashes were appalling, 
and the lightning incessant. It was awe-inspiring, but 
Nathan was not afraid. In fact, he enjoyed the wild 
tumult that was going on around him. He thought of 
Preston, and wondered how it was affecting him. He 
recalled how years before he had seen him tremble 
violently and his face turn white as death during a 
thunderstorm in the city. If he had been frightened 
then, would he not be much more so now ? The storm 
56 


57 


A Broken Shaft 

infused into Nathan’s soul a feeling of strength such 
as he had never experienced before. There was a 
mighty power back of that thunder and lightning, and 
upon it he could rely. Surely the One who controlled 
the heavens would see that justice was meted out to 
men upon earth. He might delay long, but in the end 
right would be enthroned. Nathan mused over all this 
while the thunder crashed, the lightning gleamed, and 
the rain beat against the window of his room. At 
length the storm rolled eastward, the rain ceased, and 
Nathan slept. 

When he again awoke the sky was clear, and the 
bright sun was shining into his room. As he opened 
the door and stepped outside, a fairy world of beauty 
and wonder met his eyes. The air was fresh, with 
every leaf and blade of grass, wet by the rain of night, 
sparkling beneath the sun’s friendly rays. How good 
to be alive on such a morning, Nathan thought as he 
stood and looked out upon the river, from which long 
wisps of mist were slowly rising and disappearing. 

It did not take him long to prepare and eat his break¬ 
fast. Then when he had washed his few dishes and 
tidied up the kitchen, he went into his workshop for 
his kit of tools. He did not like the idea of repairing 
those shelves since his meeting with Preston the eve¬ 
ning before. But he had promised Helen that he would 
do the work, so he determined to be true to his word. 

He had just reached the main highway when an auto 
sped rapidly up the road, and slowed down close to 
where he was standing. , The driver tossed a letter to¬ 
ward him, and without a word continued on his way. 
Nathan recognized the car as Preston’s and the man 
as his chauffeur. He picked up the letter from the 
ground where it had fallen, tore it open and discovered 


58 The Master Revenge 

therein a two-dollar bill. It also contained a slip of 
paper, signed by Preston, notifying him that his ser¬ 
vices would be no longer required. That was all, and 
not one word of explanation. But Nathan needed 
none. He understood the reason, and he knew, too, 
that the entire parish would soon be acquainted with 
the story of his career. A feeling of intense anger 
welled up in his heart as he again read the letter and 
looked at the bill. The latter was not the full payment 
for his day’s work; there should have been fifty cents 
more. But it was just like Ned, and he knew that to col¬ 
lect the balance would cost more than it was worth. That 
was evidently the way the fellow had worked with 
small amounts as well as with large. Nathan at first 
was tempted to tear the bill to pieces, but upon second 
thought he realised that this would be foolish and 
childish. The money was his, and if Preston did not 
wish to pay him the rest, he could keep it. 

Slowly he walked back to his workshop and placed 
the kit of tools upon the bench. He decided not to 
leave home that day, and as action was necessary, he 
did some work about the house, such as washing clothes 
and mopping up the kitchen floor. It was noon by 
the time he had finished, and after dinner he rested for 
a while upon the verandah. The mysterious sense of 
strength which had come to him during the thunder¬ 
storm still possessed his soul. And with it there was 
the feeling of calmness. His every movement during 
the morning spoke of self-control, and although Pres¬ 
ton had been much in his mind he thought of him in 
a new light. What could the fellow do to harm him ? 
The neighbors had common sense, and would not be 
easily influenced. Should they learn, as they un¬ 
doubtedly would, that he was a jail-bird, he had surely 



59 


A Broken Shaft 

been long enough in their midst to have won their con¬ 
fidence and respect. 

That afternoon he made the doll for Peter Martin’s 
little girl, as he had promised. But he did not stop 
with one, for he made several, of different shapes and 
sizes. These he dressed with bright material he had 
purchased the week before at the store. When they 
were finished, he placed them in a row upon the win¬ 
dow-sill back of his work-bench. That evening he went 
down to the shore and sat upon a log, where he gazed 
thoughtfully out over the water. He hoped that Helen 
would take it into her mind to come there again with 
her little ones. If so, he was determined to speak to 
her and tell her who he really was, providing that 
her husband had not done so already. He had thought 
much about this during the afternoon. She would 
learn in time, anyway, so what was the use of keeping 
up the deception any longer? He felt that he could 
talk to her better freed from his disguise, and perhaps 
she might unburden her soul to him. 

Although he remained on the shore until it was al¬ 
most dark, Helen did not make her appearance, so 
slowly he wended his way back to the house. Then it 
was that he met with his first surprise. It was merely 
a brief note pinned to the back door informing him that 
Sam Dobson did not need him to shingle his roof. 
While Nathan was reading this, a team stopped out 
upon the road, and a man’s voice hailed him. 

“Jim Turner says he doesn’t want ye to build that 
woodshed of his,” was the message. “He asked me to 
drop ye word in passin’. Fine evenin’, this.” 

Nathan made no reply, and as the waggon rattled 
along the road, he gazed after it as immovable as the 
trees around him. So it had come, but sooner than 


60 


The Master Revenge 

he had expected. Preston had wasted no time in 
spreading the report, and poisoning the minds of his 
neighbors against him. Others, no doubt, would soon 
follow the example of the two from whom he had 
already received word. Preston would like to starve 
him out, and thus force him to leave the place. But 
why? Was it because of his love for Helen? What 
other reason could the fellow have ? Helen was Ned’s 
wife, so why should he fear anyone else, no matter how 
fond the woman might have been of him in the past? 

As Nathan brooded over these things while he sat 
alone that night, he thought of Preston’s white, fright¬ 
ened face, and his peculiar manner the previous evening. 
Then there crept into his mind an idea which had come 
to him several times before, but which he had always 
banished as too ridiculous to be entertained for a min¬ 
ute. Was Preston the guilty one in connection with 
the theft of those bonds? He chided himself for the 
suspicion, but the more he considered it now, the more 
likely did it appear. He lighted his pipe and paced 
rapidly up and down the verandah. He was more 
agitated than he had been for a long time. Was the 
guilty one within reach? What could have given Ned 
so much concern last night but the thought of those 
stolen bonds, and unexpectedly meeting the man who 
had been charged with the deed, and who had suffered 
imprisonment? It did look reasonable, and the more 
Nathan thought over it, the more certain he became 
that his suspicion was correct. Then the bitterness of 
the situation dawned upon him. Who would believe 
him? Ned Preston was the son of a noted judge, and 
who would care to listen to the story of a common 
carpenter, and an ex-convict at that ? Where could he 
get any proof that Preston was the guilty one ? Years 


A Broken Shaft 61 

had passed, and most people had forgotten all about the 
affair. What chance would he have after such a length 
of time to prove his case? The idea of a judge’s son 
being guilty of such an offense would be looked upon as 
the height of folly by all. Anyway, it gave Nathan 
considerable satisfaction that he himself had at last 
arrived at the conclusion as to the guilty one in con¬ 
nection with those stolen bonds. He had something 
now upon which he could work, so he determined to 
keep his eyes and ears open as never before. 

That Preston had not been slow in spreading the 
report abroad about Nathan was apparent during the 
following days. Several people who had asked him to do 
some work sent word that they did not want him. This 
placed him in an awkward position. Unless he had 
something to do he could not live. As it was, he had 
very little money, for he had spent nearly all he had in 
buying his land, building and furnishing his house. 
It did not cost him much to live, but the little money 
he had on hand would not keep him long. Then there 
would be the slack winter months when he could not 
expect to make much, anyway. He might go to the 
city and obtain work, but he did not wish to do that 
if he could possibly avoid it. 

He was thinking of this one night at the close of the 
week. No one had spoken to him for days except 
Peter Martin, who was as friendly as ever, and gave 
no sign that he had heard anything about his neighbor’s 
career. Nathan had given up his visits to the Watters’ 
house lest he might embarrass the widow should she 
not wish him to see her little girl. He felt that it was 
better for him to stay away altogether unless Mrs. 
Watters should send for him. 

It was impossible for Nathan not to feel a keen sense 


62 


The Master Revenge 

of bitterness in his heart at the way in which he was 
being treated. His neighbors called themselves Chris¬ 
tian people, and most of them attended the services of 
their church regularly. The parson, he knew, had often 
admonished them to be helpful to others, and nearly 
every Sunday they were reminded in the words of the 
Litany “to strengthen such as do stand, to comfort and 
help the weak-hearted, and to raise up them that fall” 
Yet why should they shun a man, and refuse him work 
when he was striving to lead a good life, even though 
he had served a term in the Penitentiary? 

Nathan was in the midst of this meditation when a 
loud knock sounded upon the door. As he opened it, 
he saw standing before him the towering form of Par¬ 
son Westmore. He was panting heavily, and was 
quite agitated. 

“I have met with an accident, Mr. Stone,” he abruptly 
explained. “A car crowded me off the road just around 
the corner. My horse took fright, plunged into the 
ditch, and broke the right shaft of my waggon. I 
wonder if you can patch it up?” 

“I shall do what I can,” Nathan replied, as he ac¬ 
companied the clergyman to the scene of the mishap. 
“Whose car was it?” 

“Mr. Preston’s. He was driving, and Bill Tooke 
was with him. He evidently didn’t see me until I 
went into the ditch.” 

“And he didn’t stop to see how badly you were 
damaged?” 

“No, he kept right on at a high rate of speed. The 
roads are becoming unsafe these days with such reck¬ 
less drivers abroad.” 

It did not take Nathan long to unfasten the shafts 
from the waggon, and carry them to his workshop. 



A Broken Shaft 63 

The parson followed, leading the horse, which he fast¬ 
ened to a nearby tree. 

f{ ^he shaft is badly splintered,” Nathan declared, 
“but I can patch it up for to-night. I shall take the 
measurements and make you a new one to-morrow. It 
will be ready right after dinner.” 

He then set to work and did as firm a job as possible, 
the clergyman watching him most intently. 

“It was fortunate that I was near your place,” he 
remarked. 

“At the bend in the road,” Nathan replied. ‘That's 
where the unexpected happens, so you said last Sunday.” 

So I did! so I did! and here is the practical applica¬ 
tion of it.” 

“And it's not always the golden van, either, is it? 
Sometimes it is altogether different. Such has been my 
experience.” 

So I believe, Mr. Stone, according to rumors I have 
lately heard.” 

“That I am a jail-bird?” 

“Yes, yes, but I cannot believe such reports.” 

“They are true, nevertheless. You might as well 
know it now as at any time. Ned Preston has been 
circulating the news, so I surmise.” 

“It makes no difference to me, let me assure you of 
that, Mr. Stone. You have proven yourself a quiet 
and obliging neighbor, and a most earnest worshipper. 

I wish I had more like you in this parish.” 

“Others evidently do not think as you do, sir. From 
the way work has fallen off, it looks as if I might be 
starved out. Several orders have been cancelled since 
that news went abroad.” 

“Is that so?” 


64 The Master Revenge 

“It certainly is. I haven’t anything to 'do now to 
make a living.” 

“Dear me! that’s too bad. I had no idea that my 
people would treat you in such a manner. I wonder 
what I can do about it.” 

“Do not trouble yourself, Mr. Westmore. I am not 
starved out yet. Something will come around the bend 
before long.” 

When the shaft was repaired, and ere they left the 
workshop, the clergyman pointed to a rustic chair in 
a corner of the room. 

“Did you make that?” he inquired. “It is a very 
fine one.” 

“Yes, I made it some time ago when I had nothing 
else to do. I learned to make such things when at the 
Penitentiary. Would you like to have it?” 

“Indeed I should. But what is the price? Perhaps 
it is more than I can afford.” 

“It will cost you nothing,” Nathan assured him, as 
he picked up the chair and carried it outside. “It is no 
good to me, so I shall be delighted if you can make some 
use of it.” 

The parson protested, and offered to pay for the 
chair, but Nathan had his way, and tied it securely to 
the back of the waggon. Soon the shafts were in 
place, the horse hitched up, and the parson in his seat 
with the reins in his hands. 

“I shall not soon forget your kindness, Mr. Stone,” 
he said. “I shall pay you for your work when I come 
to-morrow. Keep up courage and do not worry. 
Perhaps the golden van will come around the bend 
sooner than you imagine.” 

“You may be right, sir,” Nathan laughingly replied. 
“But what about the roots and snags which have to be 


A Broken Shaft 65 

torn up at times? You mentioned such things in your 
sermon, didn’t you?” 

“Quite true, quite true. Yes, there are snags in the 
way, and one doesn’t have to go far to find them. Get 
a l on &> Jerry. Good-night, Mr. Stone, I hope to 
you again to-morrow.” 


see 


CHAPTER 7 

Through the Window 

A S Nathan worked at the waggon shaft the next 
morning he wondered what Ned Preston and Bill 
Tooke had been doing together. That they had been 
bent upon some mischief he felt certain. It was most 
unusual for the two men to be so friendly. But, per¬ 
haps, their mutual hatred to him was the cause of it. 
Anyway, he would await their move, whatever that 
might be. 

Parson Westmore came that afternoon for the new 
shaft, and while Nathan was removing the broken one, 
the clergyman sat watching nearby. 

“I believe I have found work for you, Mr. Stone,” 
he at length announced. 

“That’s good news,” was the reply. “Have any of 
the neighbors repented?” 

“Not that I know of. But this is a different kind 
of work, and that rustic chair you gave me last night 
was the cause of it. When I reached home with my 
prize, I found several friends there. They have cot¬ 
tages at River View where they are spending the sum¬ 
mer. They were most enthusiastic over the chair, and 
I have taken orders for a number, providing you will 
make them. They asked what they would cost, and 
although I did not know for sure, I told them that they 
should be worth five dollars each, at least. They con¬ 
sidered that reasonable, so if you are willing you can 
66 


Through the Window 67 

make three at once. I feel certain that others will want 
chairs as well, so you may work up quite a business.” 

Nathan was much touched by the clergyman's inter¬ 
est on his behalf. 

It is very good of you, Mr. Westmore,” he replied. 
**I never thought of the idea before. River View is a 
busy place, I understand, so there should be a good sale 
for the chairs. I can make other things, too, such as 
flower-stands and tables. If I had a rowboat, I could 
take them there myself.” 

“You are welcome to mine, Mr. Stone. It has been 
seldom used since my son left home. It may leak quite 
a bit, so will need some caulking. You can get it when¬ 
ever you are ready.” 

Nathan was greatly pleased at the idea, and a new 
spirit animated his soul as he thought of the prospects 
in store. He knew where he could find plenty of suit¬ 
able wood, and he really enjoyed making rustic chairs 
and tables. He set earnestly to work, and various 
were the designs he made, giving his imagination free 
p!ay, feeling certain that those who bought his wares 
would be satisfied. 

The middle of the following week he took his first 
load to River View. He had caulked the parson's 
boat, and had given it a much-needed coat of paint, thus 
making it quite water-tight. His bulky outfit almost 
filled the boat, and besides the chairs and tables he took 
along with him the dolls he had made. It was a row 
of about six miles, but he enjoyed the trip. It was a 
beautiful morning, and the river was as smooth as 
glass. The people at the summer resort were in good 
humor, eagerly bought his entire stock, and ordered 
more. Parents purchased the dolls for their children, 
and several little ones were keenly disappointed at not 


68 


The Master Revenge 

obtaining any. But Nathan promised to bring more 
the next time, so they were comforted. 

This success was most encouraging, and once more 
Nathan set to work upon a new supply. Only Peter 
Martin visited him, bringing fresh eggs and butter. 
Each time he stayed for a while, chatted, and watched 
the carpenter at his work. 

“Ye learned that business well, Mr. Stone/' he one 
evening remarked. “I wish t’goodness I could make 
sich things. I’m not much use on the farm these days, 
as I’m gittin’ lamer all the time. My knee hurts me a 
great deal now. Yer fortunate in bein’ so handy. 

“But I paid dear for it, Mr. Martin,” Nathan re¬ 
minded, looking up from his work. “While I was 
learning to make chairs and such things I might have 
become a successful business man.” 

“So I understand, Mr. Stone, from what I have 
heard of late. But d’ye s’pose ye’d have been any hap¬ 
pier than ye are now?” 

“Perhaps not, although I’m very sorry that I didn’t 
have a chance to try it out. You have heard the story 
of my career, no doubt, so it is not necessary for me to 
tell you about it. But a block of twelve years ruined 
in a man’s life, just when he is in his prime, is a very 
serious matter.” 

“It sure is, an’ no mistake about that. But success 
an’ money don’t alius bring happiness, remember. Look 
at Mr. Preston, fer instance. He’s got money, an’ is 
considered a smart business man. But is he happy? I 
should say not, from what I hear. Mattie Burns, the 
girl who works at his house in the summer time, has 
told my wife some things I wouldn’t like to repeat. I 
guess Mrs. Preston has her own troubles.” 


Through the Window 69 

“Mr. Preston should be happy, though, with such a 
wife and children as he has,” Nathan replied. 

“He’ll never be happy with sich a conscience as he 
carries around. I don’t see how he kin sleep at night 
after the mean, contemptible things that he has done. 
There’s my leg, fer instance, an’ the good money I had 
to pay out because of his diviltry. But, never mind, 
he’ll git what’s cornin’ to him some day, an’ mebbe it’ll 
all come in a bunch. It ginerally does when it starts, 
so I’ve noticed.” 

Peter rose slowly from the box upon which he had 
been sitting, and limped toward the door. 

“There’s a storm not fer off,” he announced, as he 
opened the door and viewed the sky. “Rain’s needed, 
an’ we havent had any since that last thunderstorm.” 

“I hope it won’t come to-morrow,” Nathan replied. 
“I have another load almost ready to take to River 
View.” 

“Better be careful, Mr. Stone. It’s mighty rough 
at times out there on the water. That flat-bottom boat 
of the parson s is hard to handle, ’specially with an 
outfit sich as you’ll have. But good-night, an’ good 
luck to ye.” 

The next day Nathan found that Peter’s words were 
only too true. He started that afternoon for River 
View, and when halfway there the wind came up from 
the south. It had been threatening all the morning, 
but as the water was smooth, Nathan thought that he 
could reach his destination before it arrived. Now he 
knew that he had been mistaken. The wind steadily 
increased, and this, together with the mounting waves, 
made rowing very difficult. Often the spray dashed 
high, wetting his clothes and his load. It was a hard 
pull, and once he believed that he would have to give 


70 


The Master Revenge 

up and go back home. But he kept on, and at length, 
greatly wearied, he reached the summer resort. It 
did not take him long to dispose of his goods, and he 
then longed to return home. But he did not care to 
venture forth with the water so rough, so he waited, 
hoping that the wind would die down. Instead, how¬ 
ever, it increased, until about dark it was blowing a 
gale, and ere long the rain began to fall. He, accord¬ 
ingly, abandoned the idea of returning by boat, and de¬ 
cided to walk. He could come back next day for the 
craft, or as soon as the storm ceased. 

There was a large hotel at River View, and as 
Nathan was hungry, he entered the building and took 
a seat in a comer of the comfortable dining-room. To 
sit at a table covered with spotless linen, to be waited 
upon, and to eat food not of his own cooking, was a 
luxurious experience for him. He recalled how often 
he had frequented hotels and restaurants before his 
imprisonment, and had taken it all as a matter of 
course. But now it was different, and the novelty ap¬ 
pealed to him. He watched with much interest the 
people seated at the various tables, noted their animated 
faces, and listened to their talk. Several consisted of 
family groups, fathers, mothers and children. How 
happy they must be in one another’s company, he 
thought. Perhaps he, too, would be enoying such a 
life but for the strange twist of fate that had overtaken 
him. Helen would be just where a beautiful woman 
was sitting by the side of her two radiant daughters, 
talking to her husband. A feeling of intense loneli¬ 
ness, mingled with bitterness, stole into his heart. 
What had he done to be deprived of the woman he 
loved, and all those things that make life worth living? 

Happening to glance to the right, he gave a start as 


71 


^Through the Window 

he saw Ned Preston enter the room, and with him was 
a woman of more than ordinary beauty of face and 
form. They took seats at a small table, and Nathan 
was glad that Preston’s back was toward him. He 
did not wish the fellow to know that he was there, so 
from his corner he could watch them without attract¬ 
ing any notice. The man and the woman nearby also 
saw them. A look of deep significance passed between 
them, and the woman said something which Nathan 
could not catch. The two girls also looked around, 
and then whispered earnestly together. How Nathan 
longed to know what they were saying. That it was 
not of a very complimentary nature he felt certain. 
What kind of a life was Preston leading? he won¬ 
dered. Was he in the habit of leaving his wife and 
paying attention to other women? It did appear so, 
and the thought stirred him to anger. Had Preston’s 
wife been anyone else but Helen it would not have 
concerned him in the least. But to think that the one 
woman in the whole world who was dearer to him than 
life was the wife of the man before him, and he was 
tired of her, and was basking in the graces of an¬ 
other, was hard to endure. Nathan’s hands clenched 
hard, and his eyes glowed with indignation as he 
thought of these things. He noticed that Preston was 
talking earnestly to the woman seated opposite him, 
and that she was looking with beaming eyes into his. 
This made Nathan more disgusted than ever. He rose 
from the table, made his way out of the room, paid 
for his unfinished meal, and left the building. It was 
raining hard, and the wind was blowing a gale. But 
he paid no attention to the weather. He wanted to get 
as far away from River View as possible, and so he at 
once set his face homeward. He walked with a rapid 


72 The Master Revenge 

stride, in keeping with the tumult that was raging in his 
brain. His clothes soon became thoroughly soaked, 
but he did not mind. In fact, he never thought about 
them. 

Darkness came upon him when he was about half¬ 
way home, and walking was difficult. Several times 
he was forced into the ditch by autos, and liberally 
splashed with mud and water. But steadily he kept 
on his way, and at length stopped in front of the Pres¬ 
ton house. Light streamed from two front windows, 
and a desire entered his heart to know how Helen was 
spending the evening. Acting upon the impulse of the 
moment, he walked slowly up the driveway, and paused 
just at the edge of the large verandah, close by a group 
of thick lilac bushes. From here he could look into the 
sitting-room through the windows where the curtains 
were partly drawn aside. And there he saw Helen 
sitting near a little table, with the light from a shaded 
lamp falling upon her face and hair. A wood fire was 
burning in the grate, and at this the woman was gazing. 
He could obtain only a side view of her face, but from 
her serious expression he surmised that she was in 
deep thought. Her hands were clasped in her lap, and 
her head was bent somewhat forward. Nathan knew 
that it was unmanly for him to be standing watching 
her, and he was about to hurry away, when the woman 
rose suddenly to her feet and walked rapidly up and 
down the room. This she did several times, and the 
watcher was thus enabled to see her face to a good ad¬ 
vantage. And what he saw there startled him, for it 
was the face of a woman in the depths of despair. 
Once she paused, clasped her hands wildly together, 
and her body trembled. An intense longing swept upon 
Nathan to rush into the house, seize her in his arms 


Through the Window 73 

and comfort her. He realised, however, that such a 
thing would be madness, so he crushed back the desire 
that was burning in his heart, turned and fled away, 
lest he should be tempted to follow his wild impulse. 
But he had seen enough to know that the rumors he 
had heard concerning Helen Preston were true. She 
was most unhappy, and it was due to the man she had 
married. She evidently knew the kind of life he was 
leading, so while he was spending his nights with other 
women she was left alone in solitude and despair. 




CHAPTER 8 


A Startling Confession 

W HEN Nathan reached home he built a fire 
in the stove, changed his clothes, and hung 
the wet ones up to dry. The heat felt good, and the 
room seemed exceptionally cosy and comfortable after 
his battling with the storm. He lighted his pipe, 
stretched himself upon the cot near the stove, and gave 
himself up to the enjoyment of a much-needed rest. 
The rain drove lashingly against the window facing 
south, and he could hear the wind tearing through the 
trees at the back of the house. It was good to be under 
shelter on such a night, and but for the thought of 
Helen alone in her distress he would have felt quite 
happy. 

A loud rap outside startled him, and when he had 
thrown open the door, he saw Peter Martin, dripping 
with wet, standing before him. In his hand he held a 
piece of paper which he at once gave to Nathan. 

“It’s a phone message from the city,” he explained. 
“I happened to be at the store when the call came fer 
you. I told Dobbins that you were away from home, 
an’ that he’d better git the message, an’ I would deliver 
it, so there it is.” 

“Come in, Mr. Martin,” Nathan invited. “It is nice 
and comfortable in here.” 

“Can’t stay a minute, Mr. Stone, though I’m much 
obliged, all the same. My horse is jist outside.” 

74 


A Startling Confession 75 

“THanks very much for your kindness, Mr. Martin. 
You should not be out in such a storm as this/’ 

“That’s quite true, but us farmers have to turn out 
in all kinds of weather. We’re used to it. Good¬ 
night.” 

When Peter had gone, Nathan carried the piece of 
paper to the light, and with difficulty read the scrawl 
written with a lead pencil. 

“Dear Mr. Stone : 

“You are wanted at the city early to-morrow 
morning at the office of Black & Muirhead, law¬ 
yers, 61 Crescent Street. It is a matter of great 
importance, and your presence is urgently desired. 

I have taken this message for you. 

“J. E. Dobbins.” 

Nathan stared at these words, read and re-read 
them. What does it mean? he asked himself. What 
could the lawyers want with him ? Had it anything 
to do with those stolen bonds? The thought made his 
heart beat fast, while an expression of hope dawned in 
his eyes. But such an idea was ridiculous, he felt cer¬ 
tain, and he chided himself for his foolishness. “A 
matter of great importance,” so the message said. 
There were only two matters of great importance to 
him in life, and one was the unravelling of the mystery 
connected with those stolen bonds. The other was his 
love for Helen. This could not have anything to do 
with her, so, therefore, it must be something about 
those bonds. 

Nathan slept but little that night. He had much 
to keep him awake, for when not thinking about the 
message he had received, Helen was in his mind. He 




76 


The Master Revenge 

was up early, and at the wharf some time before the 
little steamer arrived. Never was the boat so late, he 
thought, and never did it take her so long to reach the 
city. When at length the trip was ended, he sprang 
ashore, hurried up the street, and in a few minutes he 
was on board a car, headed for the business heart of 
the city. He had no difficulty in finding the office of 
Black & Muirhead, where he at once met Mr. Black, 
the senior partner, and stated who he was. The law¬ 
yer greeted him in a most friendly manner, shaking 
hands with him, and offering him a chair. 

“I was afraid you would not get here in time,” he 
remarked, as he picked up a folded paper from a num¬ 
ber of neatly-arranged documents on his desk. “But 
now we can get right ahead with the business.” 

“What is the matter of great importance, anyway?” 
Nathan asked., “I am completely in the dark as to why 
you sent for me in such a hurry.” 

“I cannot explain to you just now, Mr. Stone, but you 
will understand shortly. A client of mine is anxiously 
awaiting you, so we shall go to him right away.” 

Thrusting the paper he was holding in his hand into 
an inside pocket, and taking down his hat from a hook, 
the lawyer left the office, with Nathan wonderingly fol¬ 
lowing. Outside there was an auto standing, and in 
another minute Mr. Black was at the wheel and was 
threading his way through the crowded streets, headed 
for the main residential portion of the city. At length 
they came to a beautiful avenue lined with stately trees, 
where large residences lifted their imposing fronts, and 
well-kept lawns gladdened the eyes of all who passed 
that way. Along this they sped, and stopped at last 
before a house more magnificent in appearance than 
any they had yet seen. Here they alighted, and Mr. 


77 


A Startling Confession 

Black at once led the way up the smooth concrete walk, 
and rang the bell. A maid opened the door, and as 
the men entered, she conducted them up the richly- 
carpeted stairs, and ushered them into a room on the 
right. Nathan gave a slight start of surprise as his eyes 
rested upon a man lying upon a bed, his face white and 
haggard. Bright, restless eyes watched the lawyer as 
he drew near, and a skeleton hand motioned the attend¬ 
ant nurse to leave the room. 

“Has he come?” the sick man eagerly asked. “Is 
that Nathan Strong?’' 

At these words Nathan stepped quickly forward, for 
in the invalid he recognized his former co-worker, Mat¬ 
thew Halton. 

“Yes, he is the man,” the lawyer replied. “But keep 
calm, Mr. Halton, as you will need all of your strength 
for this interview.” 

“You are right, Black. “But give Mr. Strong a 
chair, here close to my side. Ah, that’s better,” he 
continued, when the lawyer had complied with his 
request. 

For a full minute the invalid kept his eyes fixed upon 
Nathan’s face with a mute appeal, such as an animal 
sometimes exhibits when in deep distress. Several 
times he moistened his parched lips with his tongue and 
attempted to speak. Nathan could hardly believe that 
this was the man of abounding health he had known 
years before. He knew that Matthew Halton had suc¬ 
ceeded in life, and from a humble office worker had 
rapidly risen to be one of the city’s most prominent 
business men. The praise of him was upon the lips of 
all, and his outstanding career was held up as a worthy 
example to the young. He was always foremost in 
every good work, and his liberality was well known. 


78 


The Master Revenge 

He had been untiring on behalf of his city’s welfare 
until disease laid him low. General regret had been 
expressed at his illness, and for weeks the newspapers 
had been issuing daily statements as to his condition. 
Nathan had always read these with more than ordinary 
interest, owing to his acquaintance with the man in 
former years. 

“Have you brought the paper for me to sign?” Hal- 
ton asked the lawyer. 

“Yes, sir, it is right here. Are you ready?” 

“Just a minute, Black,” and the invalid lifted his 
right hand as he spoke. “I have something to say to 
Mr. Strong.” 

He then turned to the man seated by his side. 

“Have you any idea why I sent for you, Strong?” 
he asked. 

“I am beginning to suspect something now,” was the 
reply. 

“Ah, is that so? My! we had trouble in locating 
you. I was sure that I would die without seeing you.” 

“And how did you find me?” Nathan asked, as Hal- 
ton again paused to moisten his lips. 

“It was through Ned Preston. He told me where 
you were living.” 

d ‘Did he?” Nathan’s hands clenched hard, while an 
angry gleam flashed in his eyes. 

“Yes, and I sent for you as soon as I found out.” 

“And what do you want?” Nathan peremptorily de¬ 
manded. “I am here, so I would like to know what is 
the meaning of all this.” 

“You are here to listen to the confession of a dying 
man. “Oh, Strong, I have been living in hell for 
years, with no rest of mind day nor night.” 

“Hell, then, must be a different kind of place from 


A Startling Confession 79 

what I have always been taught," Nathan sarcastically 
replied, as he glanced around the luxuriously-furnished 
room.’ You have evidently thrived during your period 
of torment/' 

I have, indeed, but at what a price! It was the 
price of manhood and peace of soul. Oh, how I have 
suffered!" 

“And you were not the only one, remember." 

What! Do you know? Do you understand what 
I mean?" 

“I think I do/' 

“That I stole those bonds ?" 

At this confession Nathan rose to his feet, and tow¬ 
ered above the bed. Outwardly he was calm, but a 
tumult was raging in his heart. A longing swept upon 
him to seize the wasted man lying before him, and be¬ 
stow upon him the punishment he deserved. Halton 
seemed to read something of this in his manner and his 
eyes dilated with fear. He shrank back and pulled 
up the bedclothes as if for protection. Nathan noted 
this, and a sense of pity smote him for the miserable 
creature cowering before him. 

“I won’t harm you," he said. “Why should I add 
more misery to you than that you have already endured. 

I guess the Lord has dealt with you according to your 
deserving." 

“He has! He has! But why am I so terribly pun¬ 
ished while he who led me into guilt has perfect health, 
and has not been hounded in conscience ?" 

“And who is that?" Nathan sharply demanded. 

“Don’t you know?” 

I think I do, but I wish to hear it from your own 
lips." 


80 The Master Revenge 

“It was Ned Preston, the villain. Did you suspect 
him?” 

“I did.” 

Nathan rasped forth these words, and there was 
something in the tone of his voice that sent a chill of 
apprehension through the listening lawyer. As he 
watched the cruelly-wronged man before him, he did 
not envy Preston’s success and ill-gotten gains. 

“Yes, it was Ned who plotted the whole affair, 
Halton explained. “He was rooming with you, so it 
was easy for him to place several of those stolen bonds 
in one of your grips. He led me into it, for both of 
us were badly in need of money. No one ever sus¬ 
pected us, and when we prospered, people believed that 
our success was due entirely to our own keen business 
talents. But everything we own was built upon those 
bonds we stole. Why, whatever we touched after that 
turned into gold. We were Fortune’s favorites, and 
we had all that the heart could desire.” 

“Except peace,” Nathan drily remarked. 

“Ah, you are right so far as I am concerned. The 
more I prospered, the more peace fled from me. I have 
this beautiful house, but it is not a home. I married a 
woman and lavished my wealth upon her. But she 
left me, and my two children went with her. I dis¬ 
owned them, and have lived alone in this house which 
is nothing but a prison, attended by my servants who 
care for me because I pay them well. I have bestowed 
gifts without stint, and have thrown myself into the 
welfare of this city. But all in vain. Peace is as far 
from me as ever. ‘There is no peace to the wicked,’ 
so the Bible says, and I know only too well how true 
are those words.” 


A Startling Confession 81 

„“ Do see Ned Preston often?” Nathan asked. 

His conscience doesn’t seem to be troubling him.” 

I see Ned only occasionally, though that is too often. 
But he is not happy. I know that from what I have 
seen and heard.. He is living a fast life of shame, and 
he has given himself up almost entirely to drink and 
bad women. It is terrible!” 

Halton ceased, and began to cough violently. The 
excitement was telling upon him, and he was weaken¬ 
ing fast. 

“Perhaps you had better not talk any more to-day,” 
the lawyer suggested. “The strain is too great.” 

“I must talk,” the invalid vehemently declared. “I 
must unburden my soul, and tell of the things that have 
lain hidden there for years. I have been in hell, and 
to talk to some one is a little relief.” 

I see that a man may be a prisoner, though not con¬ 
fined by bars and locks,” Nathan remarked. “I suf¬ 
fered years in the Penitentiary, but you have been in a 
worse prison.” 

“You are right. You were an innocent man, and 
your conscience was clear. But I—oh, God!” 

Halton lay panting for breath, and his cough again 
swept upon him. A hectic flush tinged his cheeks, and 
his eyes were unusually bright. The lawyer nervously 
fumbled the paper he was holding in his hand, and 
when the cough had ceased, he moved closer to the 
invalid. 

“Suppose you sign this paper now, Mr. Halton,” he 
again suggested. “It is very important, you know, and 
should, ah—anything happen to you, justice might not 
be done to Mr. Strong.” 

“You are right, Black. Give me a pen and I shall 


82 


The Master Revenge 

sign at once. But, stay, read it once more that I may 
be sure it is complete.” 

The lawyer did so and in a low, clear voice read the 
confession of Matthew Halton, implicating himself 
and Edward Preston, and fully exonerating Nathan 
Strong. There were not many words, but they were 
sufficient, and as Nathan listened, a thrill of joy surged 
through his being. At last his name was clear, and 
all would acknowledge him as an innocent man who had 
been shamefully treated. He beheld almost as in a 
dream the lawyer going to summon the nurse and one 
of the household servants to witness the signing of the 
confession. He saw them enter, watched Halton write 
his name and the witnesses theirs. Then when the law¬ 
yer had added his signature, and attached several seals, 
Nathan drew a great sigh of relief. 

“That is yours,” he heard Mr. Black say, as he 
handed him the paper. “For your sake I am thankful 
for this day’s work. Allow me to congratulate you.” 

Nathan seized the outstretched hand, and a mistiness 
dimmed his eyes. 

“Thank you,” he replied, and his voice was somewhat 
unsteady. “It is hard for me to realise the truth of all 
this. I must get out into the fresh air that I might 
think it all over. I hope it isn’t only a dream.” 

He was moving toward the door, when a feeble cry 
from Halton caused him to stop and look around. The 
invalid was trying to rise, but as Nathan stepped swiftly 
to his side, he fell back again upon the pillow. The 
wretched man caught Nathan’s right hand in his, and 
held it fast. 

“Will you forgive me?” he asked. “I don’t want to 
go until I hear the words from your own lips.” 

Nathan hesitated, and tried to free his hand. How 


A Startling Confession 83 

could he forgive the man who had so deeply wronged 
him? But Halton would not let him go. 

For God s sake! Don’t deny a dying man’s last 
request, he pleaded. “You will, won’t you?” 

Yes,^ I forgive you,” was the somewhat reluctant 
reply. “But I can’t forgive Ned Preston. You will 
soon have to answer to your Maker, but Ned will have 
to answer to me. Good-by.” 

Without another word, he withdrew his hand, and 
strode rapidly out of the room. 


CHAPTER 9 


The Struggle 

T HE little steamer Banner was making her regular 
evening run up river, and she carried a fair-sized 
cargo. Farmers, and others, were congregated on the 
lower deck, assembled in little groups, discussing vari¬ 
ous topics of interest. Nathan sat alone upon an empty 
crate, clutching in his hands a copy of the evening 
paper he had obtained before coming on board. He 
paid no attention to what was taking place around him, 
for his mind was centered upon an article telling of the 
death that day of Matthew Halton, the prominent citi¬ 
zen. It was a most laudatory account, setting forth 
Halton’s successful business career, his outstanding in¬ 
tegrity, his numerous gifts, and his deeds of charity. 

“Some men build upon the defeat and ruin of others,” 
so ran the article. “Some hoard their ill-gotten gains, 
or squander them in purely selfish interest. Some never 
think of others, and are of little use to their commun¬ 
ity. But with Matthew Halton it was different. What¬ 
ever he possessed was due to integrity of character, 
and honest business methods. In the path of his suc¬ 
cess he left no wrecks behind, and no man was the 
poorer because he lived. Men and women in all sta¬ 
tions of life found in him an ever-ready and sym¬ 
pathetic helper. He turned a deaf ear to none, and 
because of his great heart and open hand thousands 
to-day will mourn their loss.” 

84 


85 


The Struggle 

Nathan read no more, and the paper dropped upon 
his lap. His eyes stared straight before him out upon 
the river. So Halton had died just an hour after he 
had signed the paper, he mused. He thrust his right 
hand into an inside pocket of his coat to make sure that 
the document was safe. It was the most precious thing 
he possessed, and he trembled at the thought of losing 
it. What would people say when the truth concerning 
Halton became known? he wondered. And the news¬ 
paper which had said such laudatory things, would it 
remain silent? Would it give as prominent a space to 
the injustice done to Nathan Strong as it did to the 
death of Matthew Halton? He had his doubts. Any¬ 
way, he was determined that he would soon give it a 
chance. And what about Ned Preston? When the 
exposure came, what would be said of him and his 
contemptible deed ? 

Since leaving Halton’s house Nathan's heart had 
been on fire with a desire for speedy revenge. He had 
wandered aimlessly about the city, except when he was 
standing watching Preston’s office situated in the main 
business section. He longed to go to the villain and 
tell him what he had learned. But he resisted the 
temptation, deciding to go home first that he might 
brood upon it, and silently triumph for a time over the 
victim soon to be in his clutch. No longer was he the 
carpenter, content with his humble tasks of building 
and repairing. The beast within him was aroused, and 
revenge was his one desire. He rejoiced in this feel¬ 
ing. He had often experienced it during the years of 
his imprisonment when he had beaten with his hands 
against the walls of his cell, and passed sleepless nights 
in wild impotent rage. But that had all passed forever, 
so he believed, and he had come forth from his bondage 


86 


The Master Revenge 

a new man, clothed with the majesty oPSelf-mastery. 
Little did he really know of the strange depths of the 
human heart when face to face with an overmastering 
impulse or a strong temptation. 

And through the memory of his sufferings came the 
thought of his parents. Although he knew that they 
had always believed him to be innocent, yet he was cer¬ 
tain that his imprisonment had shortened their lives. 
It was bitter to think that two such worthy people had 
been enforced to endure such agony of soul and mind 
owing to the misdeeds of others. Oh, if they were only 
alive to hear the proof of their son’s innocency! 

So vehement was his emotion as he thought of them, 
that he rose abruptly to his feet and walked over to 
the port side of the boat. He looked out upon the 
water through the steadily deepening darkness. Some 
things he could do, such as hale Ned Preston to justice, 
but to bring back his parents and give them comfort in 
their old age was beyond his power. His attention was 
suddenly arrested by voices close at hand. He glanced 
around, and saw several men standing near, one of 
them holding a newspaper in his hand. 

“Yes, Matt. Halton was a good man,” he was say¬ 
ing. “I worked fer him once, an’ he treated me white.” 

“Pity there ain’t more like him,” another replied. 
“Now, there’s Ned Preston, fer instance. He’s a shy¬ 
ster, if ever there was one. Why, he owns houses in 
the city that ain’t fit fer pigs to live in. People have 
to take ’em because houses are so scarce. He charges 
big rents, too, an’ if a man can’t pay on the dot, out he 
goes bag an’ baggage, right on the street. He has 
turned people out in the dead of winter when they had 
no places to go to. An’ look at Preston with his fine 
house in the city an’ another in the country.” 


The Struggle 87 

"It’s a wonder the law doesn’t step in an’ make him 
fix up his houses,” one of the men remarked. 

“Law!” was the contemptuous retort. “The less said 
about law the better when it comes to the rights of 
tenants.” 

The conversation drifted off to politics in which 
Nathan was not interested. But he had heard enough 
to give him food for serious thought. So Preston was 
grinding down the poor in the city, was he? Owned 
houses which were not fit for pigs to live in, while he 
built the finest for himself. But that would soon be 
changed, and Ned would occupy a cell in the Peniten¬ 
tiary. He would then be in his right place, and he 
would stay there, too, for a long time. ^ 

It was dark when the Banner reached River View. 
Here Nathan landed and went at once to his boat which 
was drawn well up on the shore. In a few minutes he 
was headed homeward, pulling steadily at the oars. It 
was a beautiful night and hardly a ripple ruffled the 
surface of the water. Sounds along the shore could 
be clearly heard, the laughter of children, the barking 
of dogs, and the raucous honks of auto horns. Nathan 
paid little heed to these, for his mind was too deeply 
occupied with the strange events of the day. But 
when he came opposite the Preston house he rested 
upon his oars, and allowed the boat to drift with the 
tide which was setting up. A light streamed from a 
window in the front of the house on the hill, and 
Nathan pictured Helen sitting alone in the room as he 
had seen her that night of the storm. 

Silently he dipped his oars into the water and urged 
the boat shoreward. Some unseen force seemed to 
be drawing him against which he had no power of con¬ 
trol. A disturbing idea had come into his mind which 


88 


The Master Revenge 

was now battling fiercely with the raging spirit of re¬ 
venge. If he should expose Ned Preston and bring 
him to justice, how would it affect Helen? He knew 
the sensitiveness of her nature, and how could she stand 
up under the ordeal? Would she be able to bear the 
disgrace and agony of mind which would surely be hers 
when she learned that her husband was a criminal ? He 
believed that her heart would be broken, and that she 
would never again hold up her head and face the 
world. And it all rested with him. Nathan’s hands 
gripped hard upon the oars, and his firm-set teeth told 
of the struggle that was going on within. Preston 
must be punished, but he would not suffer alone. He 
would drag down innocent ones with him. That 
Helen would be one of them was almost too terrible 
for Nathan to contemplate. 

He had gone but a short distance when he again 
ceased rowing. A woman was singing in close to the 
shore, and her voice floated sweetly through the night 
out over the placid water. Nathan’s heart beat fast, 
for he was certain that it was Helen’s voice he heard. 
It could be no other, and he recognized the tune and 
the words she was singing. 

“Somewhere the sun is shining, 

Somewhere the song birds dwell; 

Hush then thy sad repining, 

God lives, and all is well. 

Somewhere, Somewhere, 

Beautiful Isle of Somewhere, 

Land of the true where we live anew, 

Beautiful Isle of Somewhere.’’ 

Nathan listened spellbound. It had been long years 
since he had heard that voice lifted up on the wings of 
song. It had always thrilled him in the past, but never 


The Struggle 89 

so much as now. The calmness of the night and his 
own agitated state of mind, perhaps, had much to do 
with enhancing the effect. He also detected a deep 
note of pathos in Helen’s voice which had not been 
a before ’ and he believed that he knew the cause. 
And he was about to increase her sorrow, and to add 
another overwhelming burden to her life! 

Impulsively he swung the boat around, and rowed 
homeward with great strong strokes. He had almost 
f ven way to the desire to go to Helen and comfort 
her. He had to get away from the place of his tempta¬ 
tion and that sweet plaintive voice which was affecting 
him so keenly. No matter how much Helen meant to 
him, he was not going to allow his love to interfere 
with his bringing her husband to justice. Of that he 
was determined. He would not play the weak, senti¬ 
mental fool, and thus allow a villain to go free Helen 
could never belong to him, anyway, and he had his own 
life to live and his name to clear. Helen had married 
Preston, and surely she had known what such a union 
would mean. And although she had suffered at his 
hands, most likely she would stand by him to the last, 
and repudiate with scorn and contempt the one who was 
instrumental in bringing him to justice. Women had 
done so in the past, and most likely Helen would do 
the same now. 

Such were some of Nathan’s thoughts as he drove 
the boat through the water straight for his own land¬ 
ing-place. He pulled the craft well up on the shore, 
and walked slowly up the path toward his house. He 
made a mere pretence at eating the supper he prepared 
that nighty for all the time he was waging the greatest 
battle of his life. He could not remain still, as he had 
to be on the move to keep pace with his active mind. 


90 


The Master Revenge 

For some time he strode up and down the gravel walk 
outside the house. He summoned to his aid all the 
weapons in the arsenal of revenge, and when he at 
length went back into the house, he brought down his 
Bible and read over several Psalms of cursing and 
judgment. He knew them by heart, for he had often 
repeated them during the first years of his imprison¬ 
ment. But now he wanted to look at the words them¬ 
selves upon the printed page. He gloated over the 
pictures they brought to his mind. He recalled the ter¬ 
rible injustice that had been meted out to him, his dis¬ 
grace, the ruin of his life’s hopes, the loss of Helen, 
and the winning of her by Preston. But when his mind 
turned to his parents and all that they had endured, his 
anger grew more intense. He thought of their grave, 
patient faces, and how they had gone silently about 
their daily tasks with the image of their only son under¬ 
going the bonds of imprisonment. With a great cry 
as of a wounded animal, he hit furiously out at an un¬ 
seen enemy. He would be avenged. But how ? Could 
he depend upon the law to give him justice? This un¬ 
spoken question startled him. How had the law served 
him in the past? Could he expect any different treat¬ 
ment now? Ned Preston was a judge’s son, and al¬ 
though the evidence would be all against him, he 
would have money to back him up, and who could tell 
what influences might be brought to bear upon the case, 
and he might go unpunished. Anyway, the affair 
would be long drawn out, due to many postponements. 
No, that would not do. Preston must be punished at 
once, and most effectively, at that. Nathan determined 
to take the matter into his own hands. He would defy 
the law which had treated him so cruelly, and after he 
had wreaked his revenge upon Preston, it could do with 


The Struggle 91 

him as it wished. Nothing would much matter to him 
after that The law could put him to death, if it so 
desired. There was nothing for him to live for, any¬ 
way, and no one would grieve for him. 

For a few minutes he stood like a statue in the middle 
of the room. He then seized his hat, blew out the 
light, tore open the door and sprang out into the 
darkness. 


CHAPTER 10 


The Fugitive 

N ATHAN hurried down the road with a strong, 
rapid stride. The spirit of the cave man pos¬ 
sessed him. He had been deeply wronged, and he 
would pay back in full the injury that had been done. 
The blood surged madly through his body, and his 
brain throbbed. Forgotten was all feeling of mercy, 
and forgiveness was a thing of naught. Even his love 
for Helen was unable to restrain his wild ungovernable 
passion. Like a raging torrent it was ready to sweep 
all before it, the innocent and guilty alike. 

He had gone several hundred yards when a peculiar 
sound arrested him, and stayed his hurrying feet. It 
came from the right, just ahead. He listened intently, 
but hearing nothing more, he was about to resume his 
journey, when he heard it again. It was like the low 
moan of some creature in distress. He took a few 
steps forward, and peered keenly through the dark¬ 
ness. But he could see nothing. Only the sounds 
were more frequent now, and he felt sure that they 
came from a human being. It was a still night, so 
striking a match, he searched the side of the road, and 
ere the feeble flame had flickered out, he saw an object 
lying huddled in the ditch. That it was some one in 
distress he was well aware, so he advanced, struck an¬ 
other match, and beheld the form of a man lying at 
92 


93 


The Fugitive 

his feet. He spoke, but received no reply. The moan¬ 
ing alone continued, at times scarcely audible. 

Nathan was in a quandary. He was anxious to get 
on his way, and yet he could not leave the unconscious 
man there. Something had to be done, and all that he 
could do was to get him back to his house. He reached 
down, laid his right hand upon the man’s shoulder, and 
gave him a slight shake. 

“What’s the matter with you?” he demanded. “Are 
you sick or drunk?” 

This had the desired effect upon the prostrate man. 
He moved and tried to scramble to his feet. 

“Don’t take me back!” he feebly moaned. “Let me 
go! For God’s sake, don’t take me there again!” 

“Shut up,” Nathan sternly ordered. “Are you 
drunk ? If you are, then I’ll leave you and get on my 
way.” 

This brought the bewildered man somewhat to his 
senses, and he clutched frantically at his rescuer. 

“Don’t leave me!” he pleaded. “I’m not drunk, only 
dead beat, and starving. I thought you were—” 

He ceased abruptly, and his clutch relaxed. 

“You’re not going to take me back, are you?” he 
asked. “You’re not going to put me in that hole again ? 

I must see my wife and child first.” 

“No, I am not going to take you back,” Nathan 
assured, thinking that the man was wandering in his 
mind. “Come, buck up. I’m going to take you to my 
house and give you something to eat. Get up, and I’ll 
help you.” 

_ Slowly the man rose to his feet, and as Nathan took 
him by the arm he noticed that he was tottering and 
trembling violently. 


94 


The Master Revenge 

“I can’t walk,” the stranger moaned. “I’m too 
weak. Let me stay here and die.” 

“Nonsense,” Nathan chided. “I’m going to take 
you home, if I have to carry you every step of the 
way. But I guess you can walk, all right, with my 
assistance. Come on.” 

Thus encouraged, the man allowed Nathan to help 
him out of the ditch and to guide him slowly along the 
road. At times he would have fallen but for the strong 
arm supporting him. Twice Nathan believed that he 
would be forced to lift him bodily and carry him the 
rest of the way. He spoke encouragingly, and he 
could tell that the man was bravely exerting every 
ounce of strength to stand upright. At length the 
house was reached and the exhausted man placed upon 
the cot in the kitchen. Nathan at once lighted the 
lamp, and as the gleam fell upon the stranger’s face, 
he gave a start of surprise. He recognized him, and 
knew very well where he had seen him before. He 
also understood the meaning of the strange words he 
had uttered down the road. He said nothing, how¬ 
ever, although his hands trembled slightly as he started 
a fire in the stove, and poured some water into the 
kettle. Several times he glanced toward the cot, and 
noticed that the visitor was lying very still with his 
eyes closed. With as little noise as possible, Nathan 
prepared a simple meal, and when the tea was made he 
aroused the sleeper. 

“If you’re hungry, now’s your chance,” he said. 
“Perhaps you will feel stronger after you have eaten 
something.” 

The man lifted himself slowly from the cot, and 
dragged his weary form to the table. His hands clawed 
at the food, and he ate more like a ravenous beast 


The Fugitive 95 

than a human being. Nathan, watching, felt a deep 
sympathy for the unfortunate fellow, although for a 
while he said nothing. When at last the man’s appe¬ 
tite was appeased, he drew his chair a little closer and 
laid a hand upon the man’s arm. 

“When did you get out?” he asked. 

Startled and amazed, the visitor shrank back from 
the touch, and rose unsteadily to his feet. 

“W—why do you ask that?” he demanded. “What 
do you mean ?” 

“Come, come, I know who you are, so it’s no use 
trying to put up a bluff. You are Henry Stairs, No. 
421, sentenced to five years in the Pen.” 

“Lord!” The man’s unshaven jaws worked con¬ 
vulsively as he tried to remonstrate. 

“It’s no use, old man, so quit it.” 

But how do you know me?” Stairs gasped. 

“Because I was there when you entered.” 

“You were! And who are you ? I can’t recall your 
face.” 

“Not likely,” and a smile spread over Nathan’s face. 
“This beard makes a fairly good disguise. But don’t 
you remember No. 737?” 

“Ah, yes, I do,” and Stairs’ face brightened a bit, 
and he gave a sigh of relief. “I was scared almost out 
of my senses when you asked me when I got out of the 
Pen. But you won’t send me back, will you?” 

Nathan’s only reply was to motion the man over to 
the cot. 

“Do you smoke ?” he asked. 

Eagerly Stairs reached out and grasped the well- 
filled pipe which was offered him, and when it was 
lighted, he leaned back and drew long, deliberate puffs. 


96 The Master Revenge 

“My! that’s a treat,” he commented. “It puts new 
life into me.” 

After Nathan had placed more wood in the stove, he 
sat down by the cot. 

“Now, explain why you are here,” he began. Tell 

me the truth.” . ff 

“I escaped with two others from the Penitentiary,” 
Stairs confessed in a low voice. “But, say, you won’t 
send me back, will you?” 

“That was a foolish thing to say,’ Nathan replied, 
ignoring the question. “How much longer did you 
have to serve?” 

“One year.” 

“Only one year! Why, man, you must have been 
crazy. You are sure to be caught, and then you will 
be given a further sentence.” 

“Oh, I am afraid so, and that’s what’s troubling 
me. But the chance came, and I could not resist the 
temptation. I did so want to see my wife and child.” 

“So you were on your way to them when I found 
you?” 

“Yes. I was dead beat, and almost starved. I was 
afraid to ask for grub from any of the houses for fear 
they might spot me.” 

“Why were you put in the Pen?” 

“Because I stole food for my starving wife and 
child. I could not get work, so I was driven almost 
to despair. But if they had only given me another 
chance I would have paid for all I took. But I had no 
one to speak for me, and so was convicted.” 

“And what has become of your wife and child?” 

“My wife has been doing some housework by the 
day. Oh, my heart is almost broken to think that she 
has to do it! If they had only given me one more 


The Fugitive 97 

chance and allowed me to work, I would have made 
good.” 

The mans face hardened, and his eyes glowed with 
an angry light. Nathan asked no further questions 
just then, but remained in deep thought. So this poor 
fellow would have to go back to the Penitentiary for 
another term, and his wife would be forced to drag out 
a miserable existence to support herself and child. 
Surely in a civilized and Christian land there should be 
a more humane system. Criminals, no doubt, had to be 
checked and taught a severe lesson, but was the present 
method of punishment as sensible as it might be ? 

"You will not send me back, will you?” Stairs again 
anxiously asked. 

" No > 1 shall . not send y° u hack,” Nathan replied. 

Others, most likely, will attend to that. But as you 
cannot remain undiscovered for any length of time, I 
advise you to go back of your own accord. It may be 
much easier if you do.” 

"No! no!” the unhappy man cried. "Anything but 
that! I will die first!” 

"But you have your wife and child to consider,” 
Nathan reminded. 

I know it, and for their sake I hope to obtain a 
pardon. Surely I have been punished enough, and 
mercy will be granted me. I am not well, and another 
year in that hole will finish me. Oh, I must be free!” 

"Then you have gone about it the wrong way, it 
seems to me. If you had not escaped there might have 
been some chance of getting you out on parole. But 
now I am afraid it is too late.” 

"So you think I should go back? You have been 
in the Pen, and know what the life there means.” 

"I certainly do. I was imprisoned unjustly for the 


98 The Master Revenge 

crime of others, so you can form some idea how I 
suffered. But, come, you are very tired and need a 
good night’s rest. We can talk this all over to-morrow. 

I am in no mood for an argument now.” 

Nathan decided to give Stairs his room, while the 
cot in the kitchen would do for himself. He wanted 
to be alone that he might think, for his mind was greatly 
disturbed. After Stairs was in bed, Nathan went back 
into the other room, but not to rest. He thought of 
the poor wretch who had come so unexpectedly into his 
life. What had led him almost to his door? This 
thought startled him. But for his finding that help¬ 
less man most likely he would have met Ned Preston, 
and what would have been the result ? He shuddered 
as he thought of his burning rage and the vengeance 
he had vowed upon his enemy. Even now, perhaps, 
he might be a murderer, for there had been murder in 
his heart, and he certainly would have killed Preston 
had he met him that night. The perspiration came out 
upon his forehead, and his body trembled. A mur¬ 
derer! And Henry Stairs had unconsciously saved 
him from that terrible deed! But why had the escaped 
convict happened his way and dropped into the ditch 
so near his house? He could not believe that it was 
altogether by chance. There must have been some 
special reason in it all. Perhaps Stairs had been di¬ 
rected that way. A feeling of awe entered his heart at 
the thought. 

He rose abruptly to his feet and paced rapidly up 
and down the room. The more he thought about it, 
the more convinced he became that his life was being 
directed by Another, stronger and wiser than himself. 
It also brought to him a sense of comfort. No longer 
would he give way to the wild ungovernable passion 


The Fugitive 99 

which had agitated his soul. He would remain calm 
and self-possessed, trusting that everything would come 
out all right at last. 

He thought, too, of the sleeping man in the next 
room, and recalled what he had said about his wife 
and child. He had only wanted another chance, an 
opportunity to work, and he would have made com¬ 
plete restitution for the wrong he had done. But it 
had been denied him. Instead, he had been imprisoned, 
while his wife and child were left without any support. 
Stairs was not a criminal by nature, but merely driven 
to the verge of despair through force of circumstances. 
He believed that there was something radically wrong 
with such a system. Almost unconsciously he quoted 
a verse from “The Ballade of Reading Gaol” : 

“For man’s grim Justice goes its way. 

And will not swerve aside : 

It slays the weak, it slays the strong, 

It has a deadly stride: 

With iron heel it slays the strong, 

The monstrous parricide.” 

He knew from experience how true were these words. 
He had come across men in the Penitentiary who 
should have been forced to work and make such resti¬ 
tution as was possible for the lives they had ruined, for 
the homes they had broken up, and for the money they 
had stolen. Those men were placed in safe keeping, 
and punished according to the law of the land. But 
their imprisonment did absolutely nothing to remedy the 
injury they had committed. Such a system did not 
seem sensible. 

Then Ned Preston came into his mind. That he 
could put the fellow into the Penitentiary he felt cer- 


100 The Master Revenge 

tain. But would that be the best way to deal with 
the rascal? Would it not be better for him to make 
restitution for the wrongs he had done? But how 
could this be carried out? Who was to take up the 
matter and compel him to do this? If the law took 
him in hand, he might be imprisoned after a long delay. 
But the evils he had done would remain. No restora¬ 
tion would be made. That would not be at all satis¬ 
factory. Surely there was some other way. Why 
could he not do it himself? Nathan reasoned. He 
could meet him face to face, and charge him with his 
villainy. If Ned would not do as he wished, he 
would let the law take its course. Four things stood 
out clearly in his mind—those miserable tenements in 
the city, Ned’s debts to Peter Martin, the cause of Mrs. 
Watters, and Helen’s sad life. Nathan now knew the 
course he would pursue, and let Preston refuse to obey 
if he dare. 


CHAPTER 11 


Restitution 

N ATHAN slept late the next morning, as he was 
very tired after his trying experience of the 
previous day. Stairs stayed in bed until noon, and 
when he came from his room he looked greatly re¬ 
freshed. Nathan greeted him cordially, and motioned 
him to the table where dinner was served. 

“You must be hungry after your long fast,” he said, 
“so set to work at once. You look in good shape for 
the road again.” 

“I dread the thought of doing that,” the visitor 
replied. “The nearer I get to the city, the more fearful 
I become. But I must see my wife and child before 
I am captured and sent back again. It is a long walk, 
but I do not dare to go on the steamer. It is not safe 
for me to travel by day, although I did it at times.” 

While Stairs was eating, Nathan did considerable 
thinking. It would not be right for him to keep the 
man for any length of time in his house, knowing that 
he had escaped from the Penitentiary. It was really 
his duty to assist the authorities by sending them word 
about the escaped convict. If he failed to do so, the 
law might lay hold on him as harboring and hiding 
the man. Just what the punishment would be he did 
not know, although the fact that he himself had served 
a term might make it very unpleasant for him if found 
101 


102 The Master Revenge 

out. But he did not wish to give Stairs up. He would 
urge him to return of his own free will after he had 
seen his wife and child. Then a new idea entered his 
mind, and he wondered why he had not thought of it 
before. He would take Stairs to the city himself in 
his small boat. They could go by night, and thus 
escape observation. He said nothing about it just then, 
but when Stairs had finished his dinner, and was en¬ 
joying a smoke, Nathan turned to him. 

“Would you like for me to take you to the city in 
my boat?” he asked. 

“Would you do it?” The expression in the man’s 
eyes showed his eagerness, and he almost dropped the 
pipe in his excitement. “When? To-night?” 

“Perhaps so. It will take me some time to rig up 
a sail. I shall have to go to the store for cotton first.” 

“And you really mean it, then?” 

“Yes, if you promise me one thing.” 

“What is that?” 

“If after you have seen your wife and child you will 
give yourself up, and go back and finish out your term.” 

“Oh, Lord!” Stairs groaned. “How can I! It will 
mean going to Hell again.” 

“There is no doubt about that. But most likely you 
will have to remain there much longer if you don’t give 
yourself up, so you had better decide to do as I advise.” 

“Is there no way I can get out on parole?” the 
unhappy man asked. “Others have done so.” 

“Have you any friends who might intercede for 
you?” 

“Not one, and that was the trouble when I was sen¬ 
tenced to the Pen. No one cared what happened to 
me or to my family.” 

“Well, if I undertake to do what I can for you, will 


Restitution 103 

you promise that you will give yourself up after you 
have seen your wife and child?” 

“Yes, I promise,” was the low reply. “But for God’s 
sake, do what you can!” 

“I shall do all in my power,” Nathan assured. “But 
you stay here now while I go to the store. I want to 
get to work upon that sail as soon as possible.” 

Nathan made his way slowly up the road, thinking 
deeply as he walked. How was he to help Stairs in 
his trouble? He knew of no person of influence to 
whom he could turn, and without such help there was 
very little chance of success. If he had sufficient money 
he might engage the service of a skilful lawyer. But 
he had only a few dollars left, and that would not go 
far he well knew. 

He called at Mrs. Watters’ to see how Doris was 
getting along. He had not been there for several days, 
and he did not know how he would be received. He 
found the child improving as well as could be expected. 
Her eyes brightened as the visitor entered her room, 
and a smile illumined her face. But the widow seemed 
to be in deep distress. It was evident that she had 
been crying, while her words and manner told of some 
trouble that was affecting her. Nathan found it dif¬ 
ficult to talk to her, so he stayed but a few minutes. 
He wondered what was the matter with the woman. 
He had longed to ask her, but had refrained, feeling 
that she might resent his interference. 

Upon reaching the store, he got his mail, which 
consisted of the daily paper, and a letter from Black & 
Muirhead. This he at once opened, and as he read, 
his eyes widened in amazement, and a slight gasp of 
astonishment escaped his lips. It was from Mr. Black, 


104 The Master Revenge 

and the tone was most friendly, not like the usual curt 
business letter. 

“Dear Mr. Strong ” it began, 

“No doubt you know that Matthew Halton died shortly 
after our visit to him the day he signed that paper. I now 
wish to inform you that his will names you as the prin¬ 
cipal beneficiary. This will be gratifying news to you, and 
I wish to extend my heartiest congratulation. I cannot 
say now what the estate is worth, as there has been no time 
as yet go into details. But if you can come to the city at 
your earliest convenience, we can then go into the matter 
as fully as possible. Of course, as you are well aware, it 
will take over a year to get the business settled and the 
will probated, but the sooner we begin upon the work, the 
better it will be. Mr. Halton requested me to notify you 
of this immediately after his death, so I am merely carry¬ 
ing out his wish. 

“Yours very truly 

“W. J. Black.” 

Nathan read this letter through twice ere thrusting 
it into an inside pocket of his coat. It seemed like a 
wonderful dream from which he would suddenly awake. 
Matthew Halton had made him his principal beneficiary! 
He understood the reason. It was the belated restitu¬ 
tion of a conscience-stricken man for the wrong he 
had committed. How much was the estate worth? 
he wondered. What would people say when they 
heard the news ? And how would it affect Ned Pres¬ 
ton? A spirit of exultation possessed him, and he was 
about to rush from the store to give vent to his excited 
feelings in a rapid walk home, when he thought of the 
cotton. 

“You must have received startling news to-day,” the 
storekeeper remarked, as he measured off the number 
of yards required. 


Restitution 


105 


“Yes, yes, most startling,” Nathan replied. 

“Nothing bad, I hope.” The storekeeper was very 
curious, and eyed his customer with considerable in¬ 
terest. 

Nathan pretended not to hear as he counted out the 
money and laid it upon the counter. He then picked 
up his parcel, and was about to leave the building, when 
the storekeeper again spoke. 

“By the way, Mr. Stone, did you see that account 
in yesterday’s paper about the escape of those prisoners 
from the Penitentiary?” 

“No, I did not. I was in the city, and was very 
busy. I shall read it, however, when I get home.” 

“It is reported, Mr. Stone, that one of the escaped 
men passed this way last night. Bill Tooke is on the 
lookout for him now.” 

“Why is Bill so much interested?” Nathan inquired. 

“Oh, there is a reward of one hundred dollars offered 
for the capture of the man. The others have been 
already taken.” 

“So Bill hopes to get that reward ?” 

“He certainly does. He’s been on the tramp all day, 
down the road, I guess. I hope he’ll succeed, for he 
owes me a big store bill.” 

Nathan was in no mood for further talk, but left 
the store and hurried homeward. He noted that the 
wind had veered from the west, and was blowing gently 
down river. This was most fortunate, and he con¬ 
sidered it as a favorable omen. His brain was in a 
whirl. The information he had received from the 
lawyer was enough to stir any man. But to learn in 
addition that a reward was offered for the capture of 
Henry Stairs, and that Bill Tooke was in pursuit, 
aroused him to the highest pitch of excitement. He 


106 


The Master Revenge 

knew very well that he could not save Stairs from going 
back to the Penitentiary, but he was determined to do 
all in his power to take him to his wife and child. 
And more than that, he wished to defeat Bill Tooke. 
It was just like the sneak to be hot-footed after a 
wretched fugitive. If Bill had justice meted out to 
him he would now be serving a sentence himself behind 
prison bars. 

When Nathan reached home he found Stairs sun¬ 
ning himself in front of the house in full view of the 
road. This was an unwise thing to do, and when 
Nathan told him what he had heard, he was greatly 
alarmed. With trembling hands he read the account 
in the paper about his escape, and the reward offered 
for his capture. 

“They are sure to get me!” he wailed. “I shall 
never see my wife and child again!” 

“You will have a chance if you keep out of sight and 
obey me,” Nathan replied. “Stay close in the bedroom, 
and don’t show your face for the rest of the day. I 
must get to work at that sail, and haven’t any too much 
time. I have delayed too long already.” 

Nathan spent the rest of the afternoon in his shop, 
and when he had made the mast and yards, he fashioned 
a lee-board, for there was no centre-board in the small 
boat. He also put the finishing touches to several 
chairs and tables which he planned to take with him 
to the city. 

After he had taken Stairs’ supper to him in the bed¬ 
room, he ate his own in the kitchen. He desired to 
keep his guest out of sight lest anyone should come 
unexpectedly to the house and see him. When he had 
washed the supper dishes, he spread the cotton out upon 
the floor, and cut it to the right size. Then with a 


Restitution 


107 


needle and coarse thread he began to hem the edges 
and form holes to fasten the sail to the yards. This 
took him some time, and darkness overtook him before 
he was half through. But he was in no special hurry 
now, as he decided to wait until ten o’clock for the 
ebb-tide. The wind was so light that he would need 
a favorable current to make much progress. Even 
then he questioned whether he could reach the city be¬ 
fore daylight. 

A rap upon the door startled him, and when he had 
opened it, he saw Peter Martin standing before him. 
The visitor limped over to a chair and sat down. He 
viewed with interest as well as curiosity the sail lying 
upon the floor. 

“Off fer a trip, eh?” he queried. “Tired of rowin’, 
I s’pose.” 

“I am,” Nathan replied, as he resumed his sewing. 
“I am getting lazy these days.” 

“Say, did ye hear about that escaped prisoner ?” Peter 
asked. “The women folks around here are ’most 
scared t’death. I believe I jist saw him.” 

“Where?” Nathan looked up from his work as he 
spoke. 

“Peekin’ in at your winder jist a minute ago. As 
I came from the road I saw a man standin’ at the winder 
over that table. Thinkin’ that it was the escaped pris¬ 
oner, I tried to creep up an’ capture him. But he 
heard me, an’ you should have seen the way he took to 
his heels. It’s too bad, fer I might have got that one 
hundred dollars which is offered.” 

Outwardly Nathan remained very calm as he picked 
up one end of the sail and pretended to examine it 
carefully. But he was greatly concerned. Someone 
must have been watching his house, and who could it 


108 The Master Revenge 

have been but Bill Tooke? The thought brought an 
angry glow into his eyes. If he had only caught the 
sneak prowling around, he would have broken every 
bone in his body. His anger was rapidly increasing, 
and this Peter noted. 

“It’s no wonder ye git mad,” he remarked. “What 
business has a man prowlin’ around places at night, 
peekin’ in winders? No one kin tell what mischief he’s 
plannin’. If it hadn’t been fer this lame knee of mine, 
he wouldn’t have got off as he did. Confound Ned 
Preston. He’s to blame fer that.” 

“Perhaps there are some men at liberty who should 
be in jail,” Nathan replied, wishing to change the course 
of the conversation. 

“I know it, Mr. Stone, an’ Ned Preston’s one of ’em. 
Have ye heard about poor Widder Watters? Her 
trouble is due to that villain.” 

“No, I haven’t heard anything lately. But when I 
called there this afternoon to see her little girl, I noticed 
that Mrs. Watters was greatly worried about some¬ 
thing.” 

“An’ she has cause to be,” Peter angrily declared. 
“That accident to her little lass has meant heavy doctor 
bills. She’s not been able to earn any money since 
it happened, as she had to stay at home to look after 
the child. The mortgage interest is now overdue, an’ 
Preston has threatened to foreclose if the amount is 
not paid at once.” 

“He has!” The needle dropped from Nathan’s 
fingers, and he stared at his visitor. “The scoundrel!” 

“Ay, yer right in that, Mr. Stone,” Peter agreed. 
“He is a scoundrel, an’ no mistake. He robbed Mr. 
Watters, who died of a broken heart. Now he is 


Restitution 109 

robbin’ the widder an’ the fatherless; that's what he’s 
doin’.” 

Nathan picked up the needle, and continued his sew¬ 
ing- His mind was now firmly made up. Ned Pres¬ 
ton must not be allowed to harm Mrs. Watters. There 
was a way to stop the villain, and he would do it. There 
were other scores to settle, as well.” 

“Do you suppose Preston will carry out his threat ?” 
he at length asked. 

“Indeed he will. That man hasn’t any soul. Look 
what he did to me. He robbed me, that’s what he did. 
An’ I’ve been lame ever since.” 

“Tell me about it, Mr. Martin.” 

“Why, haven’t I told ye already?” 

“You did some time ago, but I want to hear it again. 
He cheated you, did he not ?” 

“I should say he did. He agreed to give me fifteen 
dollars a thousand fer all the logs I could git out five 
winters ago. Then when they were rafted an’ shipped, 
he would only give me seven dollars. So there I was, 
laid up with a bad knee, an’ besides losin’ the two 
thousand dollars which Preston owed me, I had to 
sell a fine tract of timber to pay other expenses. I was 
lucky to save me place.” 

Nathan listened to this story with a new interest. 
When he had heard it before it had aroused his anger. 
But then he was unable to do anything. Now, how¬ 
ever, it was different, and he would see to it that Pres¬ 
ton made proper restitution for the wrong he had done. 

Peter rose slowly to his feet, and started for the 
door. He paused with his hand upon the latch, and 
looked back. 

“Bill Tooke is after that escaped prisoner,” he re¬ 
marked. “He wants to git the reward. But wouldn’t 


110 


The Master Revenge 

it be a great thing fer the country if criminals who are 
at large could be rounded up an’ put in jail? Bill an’ 
Ned Preston would be there in a jiffy.” 

“Perhaps there is a better way than putting such 
people in jail,” Nathan replied. 

“In what way, Mr. Stone?” 

“Why, to force them to make restitution for much 
of the evil they have done. Putting Preston in jail, 
for instance, wouldn’t help you any. Neither would it 
relieve Mrs. Watters of the burden she is bearing.” 

“What d’ye suggest, then? What else could be 
done?” 

“Make him pay what he owes you, and support the 
widow. That would be much more effective, it seems 
to me.” 

“H’m!” Peter grunted, “that might be all right in 
theory, but how kin it be carried out? It’s like the 
fable of the mice who planned to have a bell placed 
around the neck of the cat to warn them when she was 
near. It was a great idea, an’ all the mice were de¬ 
lighted. But when one old mouse asked them how 
they were goin’ to git the bell on the cat, they were 
dumbfounded. They hadn’t taken that into account. 
So when ye talk about makin’ Preston pay what he 
owes, the question is, How is it to be done? an’ who 
is to do it?” 

“I am,” Nathan quietly replied. 

“You!” Peter’s eyes bulged with amazement. 

“Certainly. Do you doubt my word?” 

“Oh, no, I don’t doubt yer word, though I do doubt 
yer sense. I alius considered you a man of good 
jedgment, but I guess I’ll have to change me mind. You 
force Ned Preston to pay his debts! I’ll only believe 
it when I see it.” 


Restitution 111 

Nathan felt somewhat annoyed at these words, al¬ 
though he made no further reply, but worked steadily 
away after his visitor had departed. He knew it was 
but natural for Peter to treat his boast with scorn. 
Was it not the way of the world? But a feeling of 
strength and superiority rose within him. He would 
show Peter, and others, too, for that matter, that the 
humble carpenter was a force to be reckoned with. 
Ere long Halton’s money would be at his disposal, 
and money meant power. Then he had the signed 
document which would bring Preston to terms. Oh, 
yes, Peter might scoff now, but he would show him 
what he could do. 

He thrust his right hand into an inside pocket of his 
coat, and touched a folded paper hidden there. That 
touch brought a gleam to his eyes and a smile to his 
face. It was the magic wand that would work wonders. 


CHAPTER 12 


The Flight 


HE tide had been running down for about half 



an hour when Nathan pushed his boat from the 


shore and sprang in. He had the chairs and tables 
on board, with Henry Stairs seated in their midst. 
This was done as a precaution, lest he should be ob¬ 
served from any craft they might meet. Nathan 
shipped the sail, seized the oars, and rowed the boat 
out into midstream. He then ceased rowing, settled 
himself comfortably astern, and drew the sail up to the 
gentle breeze. Thus with wind and tide favoring them, 
they slipped noiselessly down the river. 

It was a beautiful night, the heavens thickly studded 
with stars. Lights twinkled from houses along the 
shore, and the glare of rapidly-moving autos could be 
plainly seen. Voices of men and women drifted across 
the water, and at times they passed close to groups of 
campers. Complete silence was maintained on board 
the little craft, as this was considered advisable. They 
wished to run no risk lest they should betray their 
whereabouts to any who might be spying upon their 
movements. But both were doing considerable think¬ 
ing. Stairs was looking hopefully forward to meeting 
his wife and child, and now that he was on the last 
lap to the city he was consumed with feverish excite¬ 
ment. Nathan, on the other hand, was musing over 


112 


113 


The Flight 

the strange course of events which was causing him 
to make this voyage. What a peculiar thing life was, 
after all. A year ago he was a prisoner, with hope 
low in his heart like the poor fellow near him. Now 
he was his own master, to go where he willed, and with 
the proof of his complete innocency secure in his pocket. 
And soon he would be a rich man, able to take his place 
once more among men, and with the stain wiped for^ 
ever from his name. And he had Preston at his mercy, 
to force him to do as he commanded. 

His thoughts naturally turned to Helen. Although 
she could never belong to him, he loved her as of old, 
and he would shield her, if possible, to the last. He 
would not bring sorrow and disgrace upon her if he 
could help it. Never for a moment did he doubt Pres¬ 
ton’s willingness to obey him to the letter. 

Ere long the wind died down entirely, and the river 
became as smooth as glass. Nathan again took to 
the oars, and with long steady strokes drove the boat 
onward. They passed River View, where, late though 
it was, the place was brilliantly lighted, and the sound 
of merrymakers drifted to them across the water. 
Nathan wondered if Preston was spending the night 
there in drinking and revelling, while his wife was 
keeping her lone vigil at home. How he longed to go 
ashore, and if he found the villain there, to expose his 
crime to his companions. What a delight it would 
be to see him shrink back, and turn deadly pale with 
fear and consternation. The temptation was hard to 
resist, and intuitively he turned the boat shoreward. 
This was only a sudden impulse, however, and the next 
instant he swerved back to his former course, and con¬ 
tinued on his way. 


114 The Master Revenge 

Thus hour after hour Nathan bent to the oars, and 
the dawn of a new day was brightening the far-off 
eastern horizon when two-thirds of the voyage had 
been made. He was tired and disappointed, as he had 
hoped to reach the city before day-break. This was 
now out of the question, so it would be necessary to 
remain in some secluded place and wait until darkness 
had again enshrouded the land. He had got Stairs 
this far, so he did not wish to run any risk by landing 
him in the city in broad daylight. 

For another half hour he continued his rowing, when 
observing a little cove where the trees stood thick 
around, and with no house visible, he ran the boat 
ashore. Stairs was asleep, so letting him remain where 
he was, he sat down upon the gravel, and ate part of 
the lunch he had brought with him. Ere long he was 
joined by his companion, who had aroused from his 
slumber with a start, and had stepped quickly ashore. 

“I thought something had happened to us,” he re¬ 
marked, as he ate some of the food Nathan offered 
to him. “It was a bad dream, I guess. Where are 
we, anyway?” 

“Held up for the day,” Nathan explained. “We 
failed to reach the city, so must stay here for the day. 
I am going to have a sleep, so advise you to do the 
same. It’s just as well to keep out of sight, for we 
can’t tell who might be prowling around.” 

“You sleep while I keep watch,” Stairs replied. “I’ve 
had a good rest already. If anyone comes this way, I’ll 
give you warning, so we can get away in time.” 

Nathan merely smiled, being too tired to enter into 
any conversation. He took one of the two blankets he 
had brought with him, selected a comfortable place in 


The Flight 115 

the midst of several small thick fir trees, and in a short 
time was fast asleep. 

He was aroused by a cry of fear, causing him to 
leap to his feet. What time of the day it was he did not 
know. Rushing toward him was Stairs, his eyes big 
with terror, and his body trembling violently. 

“What’s the matter?” Nathan demanded, coming 
forth into the open. 

“The Police! The Police!” Stairs gasped. 

“Where?” 

“Up there, coming this way.” 

“To the boat, quick,” Nathan ordered. 

In another minute they were both on board, and 
Nathan was rowing hard away from the shore. He 
could see uniformed men running down the bank, 
while one, who seemed to be the leader, called to him 
to stop or they would shoot. But Nathan paid no 
heed to the order. He rowed harder than ever, straight 
for the opposite shore. Several revolver shots rang 
out, but they did no harm. 

“We’re in for it now,” Nathan panted, as he rested 
for a few seconds and wiped his moist forehead. 
“We’re making matters worse, I know, but I’m going 
to get you to your wife and child, and then I’m done 
with you.” 

Stairs made no reply, but crouched in the bottom of 
the boat in fear and dejection. The sight of the Police 
had unnerved him. The old terror of capture over¬ 
whelmed him, and the vision of his lonely cell, and 
perhaps solitary confinement, loomed before his mind. 

“I won’t go back!” he at length wailed. “I will die 
first! But I must see my wife and child.” 

“Come, brace up,” Nathan encouraged. “Don’t 
talk that way.” 


116 


The Master Revenge 

“But what am I to do? The Police will get us 
both when we reach the city.” 

“Will they? I am not altogether sure of that.” 

Nathan was rowing hard again, and was drawing 
closer to the opposite shore. Occasionally he turned 
and looked ahead, and what he at last saw filled him 
with hope. It was a large motor-boat, where two men 
were preparing to depart. He ceased rowing, stood up, 
and hailed them. He then turned to Stairs. 

“You are to be the sick man,” he said. “You must 
play your part well.” 

“What do you mean? What are you going to do?” 

“Get you to the city in that motor-boat. You must 
go to the hospital. See ?” 

“I do. Now I understand. Yes, I’ll be a very sick 
man. And I won’t be pretending, either, for I never 
felt worse in my life.” 

In a few minutes they were alongside of the motor- 
boat, and Nathan briefly explained what he wanted, and 
the need for haste. The two men looked at Stairs 
huddled in the bottom of the small boat, and at once 
agreed to go as fast as possible. 

“We are just leaving for the city, anyway,” one of 
them said, “so it will be no trouble.” 

With their assistance Stairs was carefully transferred 
to the motor-boat, and placed in a comfortable posi¬ 
tion. The rowboat was fastened to the buoy, and they 
were off. As they cut through the water, Nathan 
glanced anxiously back to the place where the police¬ 
man had disturbed them, but no sign of them could be 
seen. He felt certain that they would hurry back to the 
city and be there when they landed. The high-powered 
engine throbbed and the boat raced forward, although 


117 


The Flight 

it was all too slow for the anxious man. The owners 
of the craft paid little attention to him, and if they 
noted his worry at all, they, no doubt, attributed it to 
his concern for his sick companion. Stairs acted his 
part to perfection, and kept up a constant moaning. 

“What ails the fellow, anyway?” one of the boatmen 
at length asked. 

“It’s hard to say,” Nathan replied. “That’s why I 
want to get him to the city as fast as possible. He was 
taken bad just a short time ago.” 

It took them but half an hour to reach their destina¬ 
tion, and the boat moored close to a wharf where a 
steamer was just tying up. 

“This is fortunate,” Nathan remarked, “as I can 
get one of those autos. How much do I owe you men 
for your kindness?” 

“Nothing,” one of them emphatically replied. “You 
haven’t put us out, and we were only too glad to help 
you.” 

Having thanked them, Nathan hurried away, and in. 
a few minutes an auto was backing down to the boat. 
Stairs was placed on board, and they were whirled 
away. Nathan breathed a sigh of relief as they moved 
through the crowded streets. No sign of the police¬ 
men did he see, and he was thankful that he had suc¬ 
ceeded in eluding them so far. He tried to arouse his 
companion, telling him that he could get well now. 
Stairs, however, made no reply, but sat huddled in his 
seat, leaning heavily against Nathan. The latter be¬ 
came alarmed and looked anxiously into Stairs’ face. 
He noticed that it was very white and haggard. He 
knew now that the man was really sick and in much 
distress. Again he spoke and gave Stairs a slight 
shake. Receiving no reply, he was forced to wait 


118 


The Master Revenge 

while the auto glided on its way. The driver had his 
direction, so it should not take long to reach their des¬ 
tination. 

In a few minutes the auto stopped in front of a 
miserable ramshackle house in a wretched part of the 
city. The driver opened the door, and Nathan briefly 
explained the situation. 

“We must carry this man into the house,” he said, 
“as he is unconscious. But find out first if Mrs. 
Stairs lives here.” 

The driver did as he was ordered, and returned 
shortly with the information that Mrs. Stairs was at 
home, and lived in the top flat. Lifting the helpless 
man from the car, they carried him into the building 
and up the rickety stairs. It was a difficult task, and 
by the time they reached the top landing they were both 
panting heavily. Nathan knocked at the only door 
in sight, and when this was almost immediately opened, 
a woman appeared. A frightened look came into her 
eyes when she saw the two strange men. Then she 
gave a startled cry, took a quick step forward, and 
threw her arms about her husband’s neck. 

“Henry! Henry! What is the matter?” she asked. 

But no reply came from that silent form, so relax¬ 
ing her arms, she allowed the men to carry Stairs into 
the room. She followed and pointed to a cot against 
the wall. Here the men deposited their burden, and 
then Nathan glanced around. What a desolate place 
it was, with scarcely any furniture, except one broken 
chair, a box which evidently served as a table, and the 
cot. 

“Are you Mrs. Stairs?” he asked, turning to the 
woman. He knew very well that she was, but he had 


The Flight 119 

to say something, and that was all he could think of 
just then. 

But the woman made no reply. She sank upon the 
floor by her husband's side, and took one of his hands 
in hers. 

“Speak to me, Henry,” she pleaded. “It is Martha. 
Don’t you know me?” 

Seeing that her words were of no avail, she looked 
up into Nathan’s face. 

“Is he dying?” she whispered. “Oh, don’t say that 
he is!” 

“He is very sick, I fear,” Nathan replied. “We 
must get a doctor at once.” 

“A doctor! How am I to pay for a doctor ? Look,” 
and the woman leaped to her feet, “all I possess is what 
you see here. How am I to pay for a doctor?” 

“Then I will,” Nathan emphatically declared. “This 
man must have medical aid. I shall go and telephone 
immediately.” 

He started for the door, but stopped and looked 
back. 

“Is this the way you have been living, Mrs. Stairs ?” 

“Living! Starving, you mean, and my child, too. 
Now she is in the hospital, and I shall soon be in the 
Insane Asylum. I have sold nearly everything to live. 
But my child needed more than I could provide, so I 
sent her to the hospital. And to-morrow I am to be 
turned out on the street because I can’t pay the rent. 
Oh, what am I to do, now that Henry has come home 
sick!” 

“Who is going to turn you out on the street?” 
Nathan demanded. 

“Why, Mr. Preston, of course. He owns this house, 


120 The Master Revenge 

and several more adjoining. Anyone who doesn’t pay 
on the dot is turned out. He is a hard man.” 

For a few seconds Nathan stared at the woman, 
and only with difficulty controlled the rage that swept 
upon him. Mrs. Stairs noted the angry expression in 
his eyes, and shrank back a little. 

“I couldn’t help it,” she explained, thinking that 
Nathan was blaming her for her miserable condition. 
“Nellie was sick and I could not leave her to go to 
work, so there is no money to pay the rent.” 

“I am not blaming you, Mrs. Stairs.” Nathan had 
control of himself now. “I was only thinking of the 
wretch who is about to turn you out on the street. 
But, there, we must not talk any longer at present, as 
your husband needs assistance at once. 

He hurried out of the room and down the stairs. 
He was about to step out upon the street when three 
policemen confronted him, and laid firm hands upon 
him. 

“We want you,” one of them said. “And where is 
the man who was with you?” 

Nathan hardly heard these words, for he had caught 
sight of Bill Tooke standing a little apart, his face 
beaming with triumph. How he longed to spring 
forward and lay violent hands upon the sneak. In 
fact, he did make an impulsive movement, but the 
grips upon his arms tightened. 

“None of that,” he heard one of the policemen say. 
“Don’t try that game upon us. Where is Henrv 
Stairs?” J 

“Up there,” and Nathan motioned to the top flat. 
“But for God’s sake, don’t go up there now! The 
man’s dying, and I’ve just come down to phone for a 
doctor.” 


121 


The Flight 

“Look here, stop this nonsense,” was the stem order. 
“Do you think well believe such stuff as that ? Get in 
there,” and the speaker pointed to the car. “And see 
that you don’t try any of your fooling, either. We’ll 
look after the dying man, all right.” 


CHAPTER 13 


Behind Prison Bars 

S O ONCE again Nathan found himself behind 
prison doors, alone with his thoughts. Although 
this cell in which he was confined was different from 
his former ones, yet it seemed almost like home. The 
sounds he heard were quite familiar, and looking 
through the little barred window in the door he could 
see other prisoners walking up and down the enclosed 
space outside. He was glad to be alone that he might 
think over all that had taken place. His brain was in 
a tumult, and his heart charged with anger and indigna¬ 
tion. On his way to the jail he had thought of Mr. 
Black, and he had asked the turnkey to phone to him 
requesting him to come to him at once. He knew 
that he would need legal advice, and he believed that 
the lawyer would do all that he could on his behalf. 

As he paced up and down his small cell, he mused 
over the strange twist of Fate which had placed him 
again in such a serious position. How long was this 
injustice to continue? he asked himself. Why should 
he, an innocent man, be thus treated, while the guilty 
ones were free? Most likely he would be charged 
with abetting and aiding Henry Stairs, an escaped 
convict, and what the punishment would be he had no 
idea. And should he once more be committed to the 
Penitentiary, his plans concerning Ned Preston could 
not be carried out. He wanted to go to him, confront 
122 


Behind Prison Bars 123 

him, and compel him to bow to his will. But now all 
this would be frustrated, and nothing would be accom¬ 
plished. Preston would deprive Mrs. Watters of her 
home, he would turn Mrs. Stairs out upon the street, he 
would continue his neglect of Helen, and go on with 
his evil manner of living. Nathan lifted his right 
hand and pressed the pocket which contained Halton’s 
confession. How useless appeared that document now, 
and when would he be able to use it? Only a short 
time before he had been confident of success, but now 
his hopes seemed shattered, and all because Henry 
Stairs had crossed his path. 

His thoughts turned to that scene on the river bank 
when the policeman had arrived. Who had summoned 
them? It must have been Bill Tooke, he was well 
aware, for he had seen him in front of the Stairs' 
house. Had he followed them through the night, spied 
out their hiding place, and notified the Police? Most 
likely that was what he had done. But did he have an 
accomplice ? Had he walked the whole of that distance ? 
Perhaps someone had taken him in his car, and who 
else would that one be but Ned Preston? Perhaps the 
two were working together. Bill wished to obtain the 
reward offered for the capture of the fugitive. But 
he wanted revenge as well. And Ned Preston was 
anxious to get the man he feared out of the way, and 
once more securely locked up in the Penitentiary. It 
all seemed reasonable to Nathan as he brooded over 
the matter. And they had succeeded in their efforts! 

Although he tried to keep calm, yet his heart was 
hot within him. He felt like a caged lion. His enemies 
had accomplished their designs, and he longed to break 
his prison bars that he might set upon them, confound 
their schemes, and expose them to the glare of the world. 


124 


The Master Revenge 

Such were his thoughts when Mr. Black arrived, and 
never was Nathan more pleased to see anyone than the 
face of the worthy lawyer. He related to him the full 
story since his finding of the fugitive by the side of 
the road to the time he left him to telephone for a 
doctor. Mr. Black was a most interested listener, jot¬ 
ting down the details in a note book. 

“I must see Stairs,” he said when Nathan had fin¬ 
ished. “I hope he has recovered sufficiently for me to 
talk with him, as it will mean so much to you. My ! 
this is a gloomy place,” and he shivered as he glanced 
around the cell. “I think I can get you out on bail.” 

“When will my case come up?” Nathan asked. 

“In the morning, and I want to do all I can to get 
you acquitted. It will never do to allow you to be sent 
up for trial. You see, we’ve got that Halton estate 
to settle. Yes, I’ll go and get you out on bail at 
once. I think I can arrange it.” 

“Let me stay just where I am,” Nathan replied. “I 
don’t mind it so much now since I’ve had this talk with 
you. I am used to a place like this, remember. Never 
mind about me now, but go and see how poor Stairs 
is getting along. And do what you can for his wife. 
Don’t let Preston turn her out on the street. Pay the 
rent, and I will make it good when I get some money.” 

Nathan slept well that night, for he was very tired 
after his trying experiences. He was greatly refreshed 
when he awoke, and ready for whatever adventures the 
day might bring forth. Life held much in store for 
him now, and if he could only get out of this difficulty, 
he could go straight ahead. 

At the appointed time he was taken with other 
prisoners into the court room, and seated on the long 
bench to await his turn. His companions in distress 


Behind Prison Bars 125 

all wore woe-begone expressions. There were several 
drunks, and they showed most plainly the effects of 
their recent carousals. Two were up for theft, and 
one for a more serious offense. When these cases had 
been dealt with, some being fined and others remanded, 
Nathan was called. He told his story in a straight¬ 
forward manner, not in a pleading, whining voice as 
had some of the others. His speech and manner made 
a favorable impression upon the police magistrate and 
the spectators. He was closely cross-examined, but he 
passed triumphantly through the ordeal. 

Bill Tooke was next called. As he told his story, 
Nathan learned that what he had surmised the evening 
before was true. He swore that he had been on the 
lookout for Stairs, and when he learned that he was 
travelling down the river road, he trailed him to Nathan 
Stone’s house. And there he had seen him through 
the window one night, and he was hiding among the 
bushes when he left in the boat for the city. He had 
travelled down the road, and when the two had landed 
early in the morning, he had phoned to the Police, and 
then showed them the place where the men were hiding. 

It was quite evident that Bill received much pleasure 
in telling of his detective work, and several times he 
glanced at Nathan. When he was through, Mr. Black 
asked him if he had walked the entire distance that 
night, and he replied that a man had taken him in his 
car. When pressed to tell who the man was, he said 
that it was Edward Preston. Nathan knew that Ned 
was in the court room among the spectators, and a thrill 
of pleasure came over him. Tooke had not been alone 
in his detective work, that was quite evident 

When Mr. Black’s turn came to sum up the evi¬ 
dence, he made a masterly speech on behalf of his 


126 


The Master Revenge 

client. He was known far and wide as a most clever 
lawyer, and a man of unimpeachable character. His 
words, accordingly, bore great weight, and all listened 
to him with special attention. He traced the story 
from the night Nathan had found Henry Stairs lying 
practically unconscious by the side of the road, how he 
had taken him to his own house, and cared for him. 
Then moved by pity, he had arranged to conduct the 
fugitive to his wife and child. This was only upon 
the condition that Stairs would give himself up of his 
own free will after he had visited his family. In proof 
of this, he read Stairs’ own sworn statement made at 
the Public Hospital where he had been taken owing to 
his illness. 

“Stairs is a sick man,” he said with solemn emphasis. 
“He is also an escaped convict, and in the eyes of the 
law his sworn statement which you have just heard 
is of no account. But I have read it that you may know 
and judge for yourselves. He thinks that he is dying, 
and perhaps he is, and as a dying man he would have 
nothing to gain by swearing to a lie. He was a sick 
man when found by Nathan Strong by the side of the 
road. It is the firm conviction of the doctor who is 
now attending him that if he is sent back to the Peni¬ 
tentiary he will not live long. Even now he has only a 
fighting chance, and needs the greatest care. In every 
heart which is human there surely must be sympathy 
to-day for this unfortunate man. In the Penitentiary 
he was not well, and so overmastering was his desire 
to see his wife and child once more before death 
claimed him, that he took a desperate chance when 
the opportunity came. And what was the condition 
of his home when he arrived? His only child was sick 
in the hospital, and his wife ready to be turned out 


127 


Behind Prison Bars 

upon the street by a merciless landlord. Nearly every 
scrap of furniture had been sold by Mrs. Stairs to pro¬ 
vide food for herself and little one. Anyone who will 
take the trouble to go to that miserable house will see 
for himself what a wretched place it is, a totally unfit 
abode for human beings. And this, remember, is right 
in our city, at our very doors, and we were ignorant 
of it, or dosed our eyes to the disgrace. My client 
here has been the means of bringing this to our notice. 
He did not harbor and abet an escaped fugitive. On 
the contrary, he acted the part of a wise counsellor, and 
proved himself a friend to a man in need. He might 
have handed Stairs over to the authorities, and thus 
claimed the reward that was offered. He did nothing 
of the kind—that was done by another, who according 
to his own words and manner of speech took a diaboli¬ 
cal delight in his deed.” 

The lawyer s closing words were most impressive. 
He urged that his client be set free at once. An injus¬ 
tice had been done to him, and all worthy citizens 
would rejoice at his acquittal. 

This speech affected all very keenly, and it was no 
surprise when the police magistrate, after he had re¬ 
viewed the case, discharged the prisoner. He warned 
him of the great risk he had run in fleeing from the 
Police when they had ordered him to return to the 
shore. But considering his motive, and the wise counsel 
he had given the fugitive, he felt that it was only right 
that he should be acquitted. He spoke, too, in most 
caustic words of what Mr. Black had said about Henry 
Stairs’ home, and urged those present to take immediate 
steps to assist his wife, and compel the landlord to 
remedy the wretched condition of the house. 

Nathan and the lawyer walked slowly down the stone 


128 The Master Revenge 

steps leading from the court house, and out upon 
the street. They were silent for a while, each being 
wrapped in his own thoughts. The sound of the one 
o’clock gong aroused Mr. Black from his meditation. 

°‘Come and have lunch with me, Mr. Strong, he in¬ 
vited. “There are several important matters I wish to 
discuss with you.” 

“Thanks,” Nathan replied. “I did not realise until 
now how hungry I am. I cannot begin to tell you how 
grateful I am for what you have done for me this 
morning. Some day I hope to repay you for your 

kindness.” . # j 

“And repay others for their kindness, eh? the 

lawyer queried. 

“Indeed I shall, Mr. Black. One man, especially, 
shall have my immediate attention. He was in the 
court room, as you no doubt noticed.” 

“Yes, I saw him, and I understand what you mean. 


CHAPTER 14 


Stern Terms 

N ATHAN spent part of the afternoon with Mr. 

Black discussing Matthew Halton’s estate. He 
heard the lawyer’s voice as he read out the list of 
bonds, mortgages, debentures, and other investments. 
But his mind was elsewhere, and he was impatient to 
be away from the office. 

“Look here, Mr. Black,” he at length interrupted, “I 
am not much interested in all this just now, so suppose 
we put it off until another day.” 

“Not interested!” the lawyer exclaimed in amaze¬ 
ment. “Why, man, what is the matter with you? 
Think of the fortune that has been left to you.” 

“There was a time when it would have meant every¬ 
thing to me,” Nathan slowly replied. “But it is differ¬ 
ent now. Money has but little fascination for me. To 
work and make an honest living is all that I desire. I 
am a carpenter, a builder, and a repairer, and my 
happiest moments are those when I am working at my 
trade. I have seen how money in abundance often 
brings misery instead of happiness. No, let me get 
back to my work, and the fulfillment of my plans, and 
you can look after Halton’s estate for me. I may 
change my mind later, but at present I am in no mood 
for this business.” 

“And do you intend to spend the rest of your life 
129 


130 The Master Revenge 

in the country?” the lawyer asked. “Why not move to 
the city?” 

“How could I enjoy life here? I like the country, 
its great open spaces, the freshness of the air, and the 
quietness of it all. Then at night when my work is 
done, there is the restfulness of my house, my books, 
meditation, and undisturbed sleep. What more could 
any man desire?” 

“But have you reached that stage yet, Mr. Strong?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Have you not your name to clear ?” 

“I have not forgotten that. As soon as you are 
through with me I am going to see Preston. I may 
need your assistance.” 

“And you shall have it. You have Halton’s confes¬ 
sion, I suppose?” 

“Yes, it is safe in my pocket.” 

“So you intend to expose Preston?” 

“Not if he obeys my orders. He must make as full 
restitution as he can for the wrongs he has committed.” 

Then as briefly as possible Nathan explained his plan 
for bringing Preston to task. 

“But that won’t be sufficient punishment,” the lawyer 
replied when Nathan had ended. “That fellow should 
be sent to the Penitentiary.” 

“Perhaps so, but that won’t make amends for the 
wrong he has done. It will not relieve Mrs. Watters 
in her distress, it will not compensate Peter Martin for 
his loss, neither will it improve those miserable tene¬ 
ment houses which Preston owns in this city.” 

Nathan said not a word about his wish to shield 
Helen, and the lawyer suspected nothing. 

“Imprisonment is all right for a certain class of 
criminals, no doubt,” he continued. “But in other 


Stern Terms 


131 


cases it works a great injustice to the innocent to w r hom 
no restitution is ever made by the ones who committed 
the injuries. I am not a lawyer, and have nothing 
to do with the making the laws of our land. I am 
merely taking a commonsense view, and intend to try 
it out upon Ned Preston, at any rate.” 

“I am afraid your plan will not work, Mr. Strong. 
It is contrary to all law and precedent.” 

“But not contrary to the precedent of nations, it 
seems to me.” 

“In what way?” 

“Surely you should know. Suppose the nations of 
the world treated one of their number which has com¬ 
mitted serious wrongs in the same manner as we treat 
an individual offender, what would be the outcome? 
That nation would never be able to make any restitu¬ 
tion. Take Germany, for instance. We know that 
she stands convicted as a thief and a murderer on the 
most colossal scale. Yet the cry is to-day that she must 
not be put down and out, but should be given a chance 
to remedy some of the terrible injuries she has done. 
Cripple her trade, crush her, obliterate her, so to speak, 
and what would be the result? She would never be 
able to make amends for her ghastly deeds, neither 
could she pay her enormous debts now due to the ones 
she has harmed. She must be given an opportunity 
to make good as far as possible. Now, if such a policy 
is considered advisable in dealing with a criminal 
nation, why is not the same reasonable method used in 
reference to the individual ? But it is not, and that is 
what surprises me.” 

Nathan suddenly paused, and looked at the lawyer. 

“Pardon me,” he said with a slight smile. “Why 


132 


The Master Revenge 

should I talk to you like this? You, like everyone else, 
will consider me a fool for suggesting such ideas/' 

‘‘No, I do not, Mr. Strong,” the lawyer emphatically 
declared. “I like to hear your views; they are most 
refreshing. I quite agree with you.” 

“I am glad to hear you say that, Mr. Black. Ned 
Preston has injured many. He is a villain, and must 
be punished. But why shut him up, thus making it 
impossible for him to remedy the wrongs he has com¬ 
mitted? No, far better to compel him to make resti¬ 
tution, and that is what I intend to do. What is com- 
monsense with a criminal nation, is surely the same 
when dealing with a criminal individual.” 

‘‘Well, I wish you success,” Mr. Black replied. “But 
it is well to remember that Preston is a shrewd, tricky 
man, so you will have to be very careful. If you need 
my assistance, I am always at your command. And, by 
the way, I am going to place some money to your credit 
in the Atlantic Bank. Although you may not care 
for money, you may find use for it sooner than you 
expect.” 

On his way from the lawyer’s office Nathan bought 
a copy of the evening paper from a newsboy. Coming 
to a square, he sat down upon one of the benches and 
began to read the account of the trial. It was displayed 
in big headlines, and told in detail of the escape of 
Henry Stairs from the Penitentiary, and his capture 
by the Police after an exciting chase. Credit was given 
to Bill Tooke for the part he had taken, and how he 
would receive the reward which had been offered. The 
miserable condition of the Stairs’ home was also men¬ 
tioned, that the wife was about to be turned out on the 
street for non-payment of her rent, and that she had 
sold nearly all of her furniture to provide food for 


133 


Stern Terms 

herself and sick child. A large space was devoted to 
Nathan’s trial, and Mr. Black’s able defense. Part of 
his address was given, as well as the scathing remarks 
by the police magistrate in reference to the miserable 
tenement in which Mrs. Stairs was living. It closed 
with an earnest appeal to all citizens to assist the un¬ 
fortunate woman, and to force the landlord to improve 
the condition of his houses. 

Nathan read all this with great interest, and then 
sat for a while lost in thought. His mind turned to 
Henry Stairs, and he longed to do something to get the 
man pardoned. Some one better known than himself 
should prepare a Petition and get it signed. Mr. Black 
was just the man, and he would ask him to do it. 

He rapidly retraced his steps to the office, and sug¬ 
gested his plan to the lawyer. The latter smiled as he 
picked up a paper lying upon his desk. 

“I have already done it,” he replied. “Several lead¬ 
ing men spoke to me to-day about it, so I have drawn 
up this Petition. Copies will be made and placed 
throughout the city. I feel certain that thousands will 
gladly sign it. You may be assured that I shall do 
all in my power to obtain a pardon for Stairs. I am 
well acquainted with the Minister of Justice, and hope 
to see him myself and make a personal appeal.” 

Perfectly satisfied, and thanking the worthy lawyer, 
Nathan again left the office, and went at once to Pres¬ 
ton’s place of business. When he entered the waiting- 
room he found several people already there, seated 
upon benches arranged against the walls. He was in¬ 
formed by a young woman that Mr. Preston was busy, 
so he would have to take his turn in seeing him. 

Nathan was thus forced to wait and possess his 
soul in patience. He glanced around upon his com- 


134 


The Master Revenge 

panions, and noted that they were nearly all women, 
and poorly dressed. Their appearance told of dejec¬ 
tion, and whenever Preston’s loud, threatening voice 
sounded from the office, their faces betrayed their 
fears. This was all very interesting to Nathan, and a 
feeling of satisfaction came into his heart. He had 
the power to help these unfortunate people, and as he 
listened to Preston, although he could not understand 
what he was saying, he smiled, thinking how soon the 
man would be pleading for mercy instead of threaten¬ 
ing. 

At length the office door was flung open, and a 
woman came out. She was crying, and held a hand¬ 
kerchief to her eyes. Preston followed, and glared 
upon those waiting outside. 

“Next!” he roared, and then returned to his desk. 

Nathan at once arose and made for the door. But 
the young woman in attendance confronted him. 

“There are several before you, sir,” she said. “You 
must wait your turn.” 

“Oh, I guess it’s my turn now, all right,” Nathan 
replied, as he pushed her gently aside and entered the 
office. He closed the door and walked at once to the 
desk where Preston, with head bent, was examining a 
paper. 

“I am next,” Nathan began, and at these words 
Preston looked quickly up. Then seeing who it was* 
he rose to his feet. 

And truly there was reason for the pallor which 
suddenly appeared in the man’s face. Instead of find¬ 
ing before him one of his cringing, whining tenants, 
he beheld the last man in the whole world he wished to 
see. Drawn to his full height, and with his keen pierc¬ 
ing eyes, he seemed to Preston like an avenging demon. 


Stern Terms 135 

He cowered, shrank back as from a blow, and sank 
down heavily into his swivel-chair. In another minute 
he had somewhat recovered his composure, and the light 
of defiance shone in his eyes. 

“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what do you 
want ?” 

“Don’t you know me?” Nathan asked. 

“Why, yes, I believe I do. You are Stone, the car¬ 
penter, who fixed my fence.” 

“And only got part of my pay,” was the retort. 

“I paid you enough for what you did. Is that why 
you are here? I shall not give you a cent more.” 

“Ned!” the word was spoken very quietly, but it sent 
a chill through Preston’s soul. 

“Well, what is it? Out with it.” 

“I guess you know me, all right. And you know, 
too, that I have not come here for that half dollar 
you owe me. I have come to meet the man who ruined 
my life, and married the woman I love.” 

“Ruined your life!” Preston gasped, while his hands 
gripped hard the edge of his desk. 

“Yes, ruined my life. You stole those bonds, Ned, 
and I was punished for your crime.” 

Preston tried to make some reply, but his lips would 
not utter the words. Nathan rejoiced in the man’s 
abject appearance, and determined to lengthen the 
agony as much as possible. 

“What’s wrong with you, anyway, Ned?” he asked. 
“You don’t seem to be comfortable.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with me. You’ll soon learn 
that to your sorrow if you don’t get out at once.” 

“Oh, you won’t undertake anything like that, Ned. 
You should know why I am here. I have come to 


136 The Master Revenge 

get satisfaction for the injury you did me. You stole 
those bonds, and laid the blame on me.” 

“You lie, you confounded villain. This is a hold-up. 

I shall call the Police, and have you arrested. You 
should never have been let out of the Penitentiary/’ 

“You tried to get me back again, when you aided 
Bill Tooke, didn’t you? But that scheme failed. You 
hoped to trap me, but now you are trapped yourself, 
for you are at my mercy.” 

“Am I? In what way? You charged me with 
stealing those bonds. Where is your proof?” 

“Right here,” and Nathan placed a hand over the 
pocket which contained the confession. “Do you doubt 
my word ?” 

“Certainly. Do you think I’m a fool? But, there, 
I haven’t time to talk to you any longer. People 
are waiting for me outside.” 

“Let them wait, Ned. They’ll have to wait for you 
much longer when you’re behind prison bars. Now, 
look here, you stole those bonds, and I have complete 
proof of it.” 

“Where did you get it ?” 

“From Matthew Halton.” 

This was more than Preston expected. He stared 
at his accuser, his face blanched with fear. 

“But Halton is dead,” he found voice to gasp. 

“I know he is. But before he died he made a full 
confession in the presence of a lawyer, while two per¬ 
sons witnessed his signature. I have it with me now.” 

“Let me see it,” and Preston reached out a trembling 
hand. 

“There it is,” Nathan replied, holding forth the docu¬ 
ment. “I shall read it, if you wish.” 


Stern Terms 


137 


Preston, however, remained silent. He crouched in 
his chair, his eyes glaring hard at the man before him. 
He seemed more like a wild beast, ready to spring, 
than a human being. 

“Let me read it, ,> he presently requested. “I want 
to see the words with my own eyes.” 

“No, it doesn’t leave my hand, Ned,” Nathan de¬ 
clared, as he thrust the paper back into his pocket. “It 
is safer with me than with you.” 

“You’ll use that, I suppose, to put me in the Peniten¬ 
tiary. Preston’s words were weighted with fear and 
despair. 

“Perhaps so. But it all depends upon yourself.” 

“Upon myself! Why, what can I do? You’ve got 
me in your clutches, and you can do what you like 
with me. But for God’s sake, don’t put me behind 
the bars! Anything but that!” 

“So you wouldn’t like a dose of your own medicine, 
eh ? You had no hesitation about giving it to me. But 
I am going to give you a chance, providing you obey 
my commands. There is a way whereby you can save 
yourself.” 

“Is there! What is it ? Money ? Name your price, 
and we will settle at once.” 

“Yes, money is part of the price, but not for myself. 
I am not in need, as Halton left me most of his estate. ’ 

“He did! How much was he worth?” Preston was 
again the eager, grasping, money-loving fiend. Nathan 
noted this, and he was more disgusted than ever. 

“I do not know how much he was worth. But 
what difference does that make to you? I should think 
you would be sick at the thought of money after what 
you have done. No, I do not want money for myself, 
but for others you have wronged.” 


138 


The Master Revenge 

“Others I have wronged! Who are they, pray?” 

“You must surely know. If not, I shall enlighten 
you. Unless you wish to go to the Penitentiary, I com¬ 
mand you to lift the mortgage from Widow Watters’ 
place, and to pay her the money you stole from her 
husband. There now, keep quiet,” Nathan sternly 
ordered, as Preston started to protest. “And you are 
to make complete compensation to Peter Martin for 
the contemptible way you treated him several winters 
ago. You owe him two thousand dollars, at least, for 
the logs you got from him. You cheated him, and 
you know it. Then, you are to put those miserable 
tenement houses of yours in good repair, and treat 
your tenants as human beings, and charge them a rea¬ 
sonable rent. And further, you are to give up your 
disgraceful manner of living, such as drink and fast 
women, spend more of your evenings at home, and be 
a good husband to your wife, the best woman on 
earth. These are some of the conditions, and I may 
think of others later.” 

Preston was standing when Nathan finished, his 
body trembling, and his face white with rage. 

You devil!” he cried. '‘Do you expect me to do 
all that? Do you take me for a fool?” 

“You will be a fool, Ned, if you don’t. Refuse, and 
you can put up with the consequences.” 

“But your demands are too hard, they are unjust.” 

“Are they as hard as what you meted out to me? 
This is merely justice, and if you are wise you will 
accept my demands. I want your answer at once. 

Preston again slumped down into his chair, and re¬ 
mained silent for a few minutes. He was thinking 
deeply, and Nathan wondered what was passing 


Stern Terms 


139 


through his mind. He thrummed upon the desk with 
the fingers of his right hand, while his eyes gazed un- 
seeingly at the wall before him. He was in a tight 
corner, and knew it. But Preston was not a man to be 
easily downed. It was his nature to struggle fiercely, 
and when beaten in one direction, he would always 
seek some other way. Any method that would serve 
his purpose he never hesitated to use. As a rule, he 
threatened, and he had found this satisfactory, espe¬ 
cially with those who could not help themselves. But 
when graciousness was needed, he could be all that, and 
more, too. The serpent’s heart could feign repentance. 
The saying of the writer of old was applicable to him, 
“The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, 
but war was in his heart; his words were softer than 
oil, yet they were drawn swords.” In this manner he 
generally gained advantage over any unsuspecting op¬ 
ponents. 

“Look here, Nathan,” he at last began, “I know you 
have got me in a nasty trap, and I deserve it. I cer¬ 
tainly did treat you in a most criminal way, and I 
should go to the Penitentiary for it. I am really sur¬ 
prised that you are so merciful to me. Yes, I will 
agree to your demands, and make whatever restitution 
I can. But give me a little time, say a week, in which 
to do so. It will take longer to make arrangements 
about repairing my houses, although I shall set to 
work at once. If in seven days restitution is not made 
to Mrs. Watters and Peter Martin, then you can go 
ahead and expose me. Will you accept my word of 
honor?” 

“I am willing to give you a week, Ned, but for 
heaven’s sake, leave out about your word of honor,” 


140 


The Master Revenge 

Nathan icily replied. “You haven’t the least spark of 
honor in your soul, as you have only agreed to this 
under stern compulsion. But, remember, if seven days 
from now you have not fulfilled my demands, Mr. 
Black, of the firm of Black & Muirhead, will take 
charge, and you know something about him.” 

“So Black is your lawyer, eh?” 

“He is, and he knows all about Halton’s confession.” 

“Good Lord! This is awful!” 

“It is, and it will be more awful if you try any 
nonsense. And don’t overlook what I said about your 
giving up drink and fast women. There is Helen, also, 
to be considered.” 

“Has Helen been saying anything to you?” Preston 
asked this question as calmly as he could, but his voice 
betrayed his anger. 

“No, she has not. The only time I have spoken 
to her since obtaining my freedom was the day I re¬ 
paired your fence. She had no idea who I was, and 
not likely she knows yet.” 

“But you couldn’t disguise yourself from me. I 
knew you the minute I set my eyes on you.” 

“I guess it was your conscience, Ned, and not your 
eyes. I am giving you the credit of having a con¬ 
science, which is going a long way.” 

“You seem to consider me a regular devil, Nathan.” 

“And haven’t I good reason if I do? Would anyone 
with the slightest spark of manhood do what you did 
to me? Why I am amazed at myself for my patience. 
Some men, if their lives had been ruined as mine has, 
would have tracked you down and shot you on sight. 
But thank God, I am different.” 

“You want revenge, nevertheless.” 


141 


Stern Terms 

“Revenge! Yes, but revenge that will do the most 
good to the ones you have injured. Mine is a new 
kind which, perhaps, you are incapable of understand¬ 
ing. It is the Master revenge. I shall leave you now, 
but, remember/* 


CHAPTER 15 


A Helping Hand 

N ATHAN went at once to see Mr. Black, and 
related to him his conversation with Preston. 
The lawyer was greatly interested, although he shook 
his head doubtfully. 

“I hope it will work out all right,” he replied, when 
Nathan had ended. “But Preston is a tricky man, and 
will endeavor to crawl out of the trap some way. He 
has been in tight corners before, so he knows all the 
ways.” 

“But he won’t get clear this time,” Nathan stoutly 
asserted. “I have given him just one week. If at 
the end of that time he has not obeyed my orders, I 
am going to ask you to take the case in hand. When he 
finds out that I mean business, it will make a great 
difference. I am going home to rest, and await devel¬ 
opments.” 

“Back to your retreat, eh?” the lawyer queried. 
“How I envy you.” 

“Envy me! What for ?” 

“Your life in the open these beautiful days. I was 
born in the country, with hills all around, the forest 
near, meadows, river and lakes. Yet I left them all 
to spend a life of drudgery here in the city.” 

“You seem to thrive upon it, though, Mr. Black. 
You look so hale and hearty.” 

“That may be true,” and the lawyer smiled somewhat 

142 


A Helping Hand 143 

sadly. “See that/’ and he, pointed to a piece of paper 
pinned to his desk. “I found that several years ago. It 
is a translation from the Chorus of an ancient writer. 
Listen, 

“Oh, take me to the mountains! Oh, 

Past the great pines, and through the wood, 

Up where the lean hounds softly go 
A-whine for the wild things’ blood.” 

“Now, those words stir me, and do you know, I 
visit the hills every morning in my mind. I wander 
through the woods and meadows. I take a refresh¬ 
ing dip in the lake where I used to swim as a boy. I 
fish in the old brook, drink from the ice-cold spring, 
lie in the newly-mown hay, sleep in my little bed at 
night and hear the rain beating on the roof. And living 
that life over every morning, puts me in good trim 
for the duties of the day. It is a great tonic.” 

“I understand,” Nathan quietly replied. “I have 
been in prison, too, and know what such thoughts 
mean. But, there, I must hurry away now to catch 
my steamer.” 

The Banner was about ready to leave her wharf as 
Nathan stepped on board. He wished to be by himself, 
that he might think over all that had happened during 
the day. He found a secluded spot on the main deck, 
and there in a corner he seated himself upon a small 
camp-chair, and leaned back against the wall which 
separated him from the purser’s bedroom. 

He had been here but a few minutes when three 
people, a man and two women, brought their chairs 
and sat down a short distance away. At first he paid 
no attention to them, but continued his meditation. At 
length, happening to glance in their direction, he 


144 The Master Revenge 

straightened suddenly up as he recognized the man as 
Judge Preston. He looked much older than when he 
had last seen him on that fateful day when he had 
committed an innocent man to the Penitentiary. But he 
seemed to be as overbearing and petulant as ever, and 
answered curtly whenever the women spoke to him. 
Nathan noted his fat face, small eyes, and bull-like 
neck, and a feeling of repulsion swept over him. How 
often in his lonely cell he had pictured the man in his 
mind, and vowed vengeance some day. And here he 
was close at hand, and he could do nothing. The 
weapon of revenge was in his pocket, but he must not 
use it. If Ned Preston obeyed the orders he had re¬ 
ceived, his father would go to the grave without any 
knowledge of his son’s infamy. It did not seem right 
that the judge should escape. He should be made to 
suffer, and his haughty pride humiliated. It was hard 
for Nathan to control himself as these thoughts surged 
through his mind. Perhaps he was a fool, after all, 
for the course he had taken. Would it not be better to 
let the law deal with the guilty one? Even now Ned 
Preston might elude him, and he recalled Mr. Black’s 
warning. Ned was a judge’s son, and the law had 
many loop-holes for a rogue to escape. 

Nathan could not help hearing what the women were 
talking about. He felt sure that they were the judge’s 
wife and daughter. They were as talkative as the man 
was silent. 

“I am so glad we came by the boat,” the elder woman 
was saying. “Ned wanted to take us in his car, but 
this is such a change. He has gone to notify Helen 
of our coming. She will be quite surprised.” 

“Oh, I guess nothing will surprise her, mother,” 
the other sarcastically replied. “She doesn’t take much 


A Helping Hand 145 

interest in us and our affairs. I know she worries Ned 
a great deal.” 

I am afraid so,” and Mrs. Preston gave a deep sigh. 
“Poor Ned looked troubled when we called at his office 
on our way here. Did you notice it, dear ?” 

“Yes, mother, he was unusually pale. Perhaps he 
is annoyed about his name being in the paper this after¬ 
noon. Did you see it, papa?” she asked, turning to the 
judge. 

“Yes I did,” was the snapping reply. 

“And isn’t it a shame that Ned’s name should be 
mentioned in connection with that disgraceful affair?” 

“It is. Very disgraceful.” 

“I was speaking to Ned about it,” Mrs. Preston re¬ 
marked, “and he told me that the man who aided that 
fugitive to escape the Police served a long term in the 
Penitentiary. Did you know that, John?” 

“I did, for I sentenced him.” 

“You sentenced him!” 

“Certainly, and if he’d been before me to-day, I 
should have sent him up again. He is a dangerous 
man to be at large. And he’s now living in the country 
near Ned, just think of that!” 

“He is!” Miss Preston exclaimed. “Why, I feel 
afraid already. It isn’t safe for Helen to have such 
a man in the neighborhood. I wonder if she knows 
about him.” 

Nathan had heard enough. He rose abruptly to his 
feet, stepped swiftly past the three, and made his way 
down to the lower deck. And here he remained, silent 
and thoughtful, as the steamer plowed on her way. He 
was on the lookout when they came to the wharf 
where the Prestons were to land, and he saw Ned there 
with his car. As they drove away, he thought of Helen, 


146 


The Master Revenge 

and pitied her. What chance would she have with those 
two self-complaisant women? he asked himself. How 
repellant they must be to her, and how her gentle nature 
must recoil from their sharp tongues and prying eyes. 

Nathan thought of all this as he sat on his verandah 
that evening after supper. It was good to be back 
home again. There was a quiet peace surrounding 
him, and a restful spirit possessed his soul. He won¬ 
dered how Helen was enduring her visitors, and if she 
longed to be away from them. There were more pris¬ 
oners in the world than those behind bars and bolts, he 
mused. Helen was really a prisoner, he felt sure, even 
though she lived in a fine house. So was her husband, 
but in a far different sense. He smiled as he recalled 
his conversation with Ned, and the despair he had ex¬ 
hibited. And Black, the lawyer, was a prisoner, too. 
He longed for the free life in the open, but was com¬ 
pelled to remain in the city, most of the time in his 
office. But he was not like Ned Preston. He looked 
forth from his place of confinement to the hills, forest, 
lake and river. Although his body was enslaved, his 
mind was free and noble. Ned, on the other hand, 
peered forth angrily and fearfully upon life. His heart 
was bad, therefore his deeds were evil. There came to 
Nathan’s mind two lines he had learned years ago, and 
which had often inspired him during those terrible 
year in the Penitentiary: 

‘‘Two men looked through prison bars, 

The one saw mud, the other saw stars.” 

“I guess that is very true,” Nathan remarked aloud. 
“I must try to see more of the stars, although it is 
difficult to keep one’s eyes off the mud when there is so 
.much of it around.” 



147 


A Helping Hand 

He was aroused by the sound of a waggon coming 
along the road. It stopped in front of the house, and 
Nathan saw Mr. Westmore alight and walk toward the 
verandah. He noted that the old man’s step was not as 
brisk as formerly, and that he seemed very tired. He 
rose to his feet as the clergyman approached. 

“Sit down, sir,” he invited, offering him a chair. 

“I can’t stay long,” the Parson replied, as he settled 
down wearily upon the proffered seat. “I have just 
come from Silas Fletcher’s. One of his little children 
died this afternoon, and I have come to see if you 
will make the coffin. I have brought the measure¬ 
ments. I hope you will be able to do it.” 

“Certainly, Mr. Westmore, I shall make it in the 
morning. But what was the matter with the child?” 

“Diphtheria, and a very malignant kind. I am afraid 
there will be other deaths in the family. Poor Mr. and 
Mrs. Fletcher are almost heart-broken and completely 
worn out. They live three miles back from the river, 
and are vary industrious and respectable people.” 

“Have they had the doctor?” 

“Oh, yes. But he lives a long distance away, so it 
was too late when he came to do anything for little 
Bennie. The neighbors are so afraid of the disease that 
they will not go near the house.” 

“But you have been there,” Nathan reminded. 
“Were you not afraid?” 

“I am different, remember. I must go wherever 
duty calls. I am going back again just as soon as I get 
a little rest.” 

“In the morning, Mr. Westmore ?” Nathan inquired. 

“Yes. And I shall come this way, so if you have 
the coffin ready I can take it with me. It will not be 
large, and I know I can manage it in my waggon.” 


148 


The Master Revenge 

“When will the funeral take place ?” 

“To-morrow afternoon, providing you can get the 
coffin ready.’’ 

“It will be ready early in the morning, Mr. West- 
more. You can leave that to me.” 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stone,” and the' Parson 
rose to his feet. “I must go home now. What a com¬ 
fortable place you have here. I almost envy you such 
a life. Good night.” 

Nathan was deeply moved by the words and manner 
of the old clergyman. How light he made of his own 
part in helping the stricken Fletchers. But Nathan 
knew from what he had heard of his deeds in the past, 
what a great comfort and assistance he always was in 
times of trouble. Like his Great Master he was ever 
going about doing good, and all classes were alike 
to him. To think of the man was an inspiration. 

Nathan had never made a coffin, but he knew just 
what was needed. He lost no time that night in going 
to the store to obtain the necessary materials. He paid 
for these, and when he reached home, he went at once 
into his workshop. He selected several of his choicest 
boards, and by the lamplight over the bench he worked 
hour after hour. Not until the last touch had been 
given to the little coffin, and a rough outside box made, 
did he lay down his tools. He had completed his work, 
and could afford to rest. 

Nathan was ready when Mr. Westmorc arrived, and 
went with him on his mission of mercy. The Parson 
objected, saying that it was unnecessary for him to run 
any risk. But Nathan told him not to worry, that he 
was only too pleased to be of some assistance. 

“I have only myself to consider,” he said, “so why 


A Helping Hand 149 

should I not go? And, besides, you will need help at 
the funeral.” 

Nathan found Mr. and Mrs. Fetcher quiet, friendly 
people, and their grief touched his heart. 

'‘Bennie was such a bright boy,” Mrs. Fletcher said, 
“and always so willing to do what he was told. And 
now he is lying there so still, the poor dear. Just 
come, Mr. Stone, and have a look at him.” 

Three other children were sick in bed, so the poor 
woman was kept very busy. Nathan did what he could 
to help, for which she was most grateful. 

“Why, you are as handy as a woman,” she com¬ 
plimented. “Now, some men are no use in the house 
at all. But you are different.” 

Nathan noted the quiet dignity of this woman, and 
her self-restraint. And how brave she was in the 
face of her great bereavement. Even when the little 
coffin was borne from the house and laid in the wag¬ 
gon, she made no outcry, but stood in the doorway 
watching all that was taking place. 

“Good by, little Bennie,” was all she said, as if the 
boy were just leaving for school. She remained there 
while the two teams moved slowly down the highway, 
and until the trees hid her from view. 

Nathan’s heart was heavy. Had Mrs. Fletcher made 
a fuss, or cried out in her distress, it would have been 
some relief. But to see her standing there without 
a word was almost more than he could endure. And 
to think that she had to go back to the care of her other 
children, not knowing which of them would be the 
next to be taken from her. 

“Mrs. Fletcher is a heroine,” he remarked to the 
Parson. 

“Indeed she is, Mr. Stone. I have known her for 


150 


The Master Revenge 

years, and she has always been that way. Mrs. Preston 
thinks she is a wonderful woman, and often visits her. 
She was so grieved this morning when I told her about 
Bennie’s death.” 

“Do you mean Mrs. Ned Preston?” Nathan asked. 

“Yes, the very one. She is a noble woman, and does 
so much good in a quiet way. I wish I could say the 
same about her husband. I cannot understand how she 
came to marry a man like that.” 

Nathan made no reply, for the clergyman’s words 
had given him food for much thought. He had no idea 
before that Helen went to the Fletcher’s. But it was 
just like her, he knew. She had not changed, but was 
as sympathetic as ever. What steps would she now 
take to help the stricken family? he wondered. She 
could not very well go herself, as she had her own two 
children to consider. Perhaps she would engage the 
services of a trained nurse. Then he thought of the 
money Mr. Black said he would deposit in the bank to 
his credit. Why not use some of that? Yes, he would 
do it. Impulsively he turned to the clergyman. 

“Mrs. Fletcher should have a nurse,” he began. 
“She will break down if she doesn’t have a woman’s 
help.” 

“I am afraid so,” Mr. Westmore replied. “But where 
is the money to come from to pay a nurse ? Silas has 
a hard time to make a living, as it is. He cannot afford 
any extra expense.” 

“But I can, sir, and I am willing to furnish the 
money.” 

“You!” The Parson stared at his companion in as¬ 
tonishment. “Why, only a short time ago you were 
very hard up, so you told me. Didn’t you have to make 
chairs and tables for a living?” 


A Helping Hand 151 

“Quite true. But since then I have had a fortune left 
me, and do not know what to do with it.” 

Mr. Westmore looked keenly into Nathan’s face, as 
if to see whether he had taken leave of his senses. The 
latter smiled. 

“You needn’t doubt my word,” he informed him. 
“What I have told you is true. I have plenty of money 
now, so if you know of a good nurse, engage her at 
once, and I shall pay her.” 

“God bless you!” the clergyman fervently replied. 
“You have taken a great load from my shoulders. 
Yes, I know of a nurse at River View. I am sure she 
will go, and I shall phone to her immediately after 
the funeral. I prayed very earnestly last night for 
someone to help poor Mrs. Fletcher, and my prayer has 
been wonderfully answered.” 

When they reached the burying ground, the coffin 
was lifted from the waggon, and lowered into the 
grave. After the Burial Service had been read by the 
Parson, Nathan shovelled in the earth. This completed, 
the three men stood there looking upon the little mound. 
Tears streamed down the father’s cheeks. At length 
he turned to Nathan. 

“Thank you, sir, for your kindness,” he simply said. 
“I shall never forget it. Please let me know how much 
I owe you.” 

“You owe me nothing, Mr. Fletcher. I consider it 
a privilege to be able to help you.” 

“But the cost! the cost!” 

“Everything is paid for, so do not worry.” 

As Mr. Fletcher stood there, overcome by this un¬ 
expected kindness, the Parson laid a hand upon his 
shoulder. 


152 


The Master Revenge 

“Come, Silas,” he said. “Mr. Stone wants no pay 
for what he has done. He is a true man of God.” 

“He is, he is,” the grief-stricken man murmured. 
“The Lord will reward him.” 

Nathan and the clergyman stood and watched the 
man as he mounted his now empty waggon and drove 
slowly away. They made no comment, for words were 
unnecessary. Their hearts were deeply stirred, and 
there were tears in their eyes, of which they were not 
ashamed. 


CHAPTER 16 


Stricken Down 

D URING the remainder of the afternoon Nathan 
was busy in his workshop. He had chosen with 
much care a piece of sound wood, and from this he fash¬ 
ioned a little cross, of Celtic design, such as he had seen 
in pictures. On this he carved with his knife the one 
word “Bennie,” and colored the letters with black 
paint, which caused them to show up clearly against 
their white background. After supper he carried the 
cross down to the burying ground, and placed it at the 
head of the little grave. He then gathered a number 
of wild flowers and laid them tenderly over the mound 
until every portion of the raw earth was hidden from 
view. A sweet peace reigned in his heart as he did 
this, all the more satisfying because it was a work of 
love. 

Upon his return to his house, he seated himself upon 
the verandah and smoked in silent contentment. He 
thought much about Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, and the 
great sorrow that had come into their lives. He also 
recalled what the Parson had said in reference to 
Helen. When he thought of her she seemed to be very 
near, as if her spirit were surrounding him. This had 
been so in the past, but especially so this evening. He 
meditated upon it, and wondered if she was thinking 
of him. He saw her again as he had seen her years 
ago at the garden gate when he had bidden her good 
153 


154 


The Master Revenge 

night. It was the same girlish form he beheld, the 
flush of health upon her cheeks, and the light of joy 
and love kindling her eyes. No man had ever loved 
as he loved Helen, so he believed, and that love was 
still true and deep, even though she was wedded to 
another. According to the law of the land she was 
Ned Preston’s wife, but according to a higher law 
she belonged to Nathan Strong. 

And thus he reasoned as he sat gazing out over the 
river. When Ned came into his mind, he wondered 
if the fellow had done anything as yet to make restitu¬ 
tion for the wrongs he had committed. But he did not 
wish to think about him now. The death of the child 
had calmed his agitation, and the thought of Helen 
had brought peace into his soul. The evening was 
conducive to such feelings. As the darkness deepened, 
and the inanimate forms around him grew less and less 
distinct, he settled comfortably back in his chair, and 
gave himself up to the enjoyment of it all. The air 
was balmy and refreshing, with scarcely any wind 
astir. The stars twinkled overhead, while lights from 
several houses on the opposite side of the river emitted 
their feeble rays. Various sounds came through the 
deepening darkness, such as the bark of a dog, the 
quack of a wild duck down among the rushes, the oc¬ 
casional cheep of a drowsy bird, or the rumbling of a 
farm waggon upon the road. 

For some time Nathan sat there, thinking deeply. At 
last he knocked the ashes from his pipe, and was about 
to go into the house, when a wild cry startled him, and 
caused him to spring to his feet. It came from his own 
shore, and he could hear the splashing of water and 
frantic calls for help. Feeling certain that someone had 
met with an accident, and was in danger of being 


Stricken Down 155 

drowned, he hurried down the path, and as he neared 
the shore he shouted out that he was coming. When he 
entered the thick bushes it was difficult for him to see, 
so ; he was forced to pick his way quite cautiously. The 
cries had now ceased, and he feared that he was too late. 

He had just reached the lower side of the thicket, 
and had paused to peer keenly out over the water, when 
a noise at his side startled him. Before he could lift 
a hand, something struck him upon the forehead, and 
with a groan he toppled and crashed into the bushes. 
And as he lay there, the form of a man bent over him, 
his pockets were quickly searched, and from an in¬ 
side one a folded paper was drawn forth. With a 
chuckle of satisfaction, the assailant stepped out upon 
the path, and hastened up from the shore. Cautiously 
he approached the house, keeping close to a row of trees 
by the side of the road. Presently he gave a low whistle, 
which was immediately answered by a gruff voice. 
Soon another man appeared, walking unsteadily as if he 
had been drinking. 

“Did you get it, Bill ?” he eagerly inquired. 

“Y’bet,” was the reply. “He went down like a baby. 

I guess that is what ye want,” and he handed forth the 
paper. 

“G-good for you, Bill. I won’t forget thish. Here’s 
shomthing for you,” and he thrust a roll of bills into 
the other’s hand as he spoke. “Come home wish me, 
Bill. I’m a bit unshteady on my feet to-night. Here, 
have a drink; it’s good shtuff.” 

In a few minutes the two were reeling down the road, 
each trying to hold the other up, and talking in a most 
maudlin manner. 

When Nathan opened his eyes, he did not try to un¬ 
derstand what had happened to him. He saw the stars 


156 


The Master Revenge 

shining overhead, and watched them curiously. One 
star larger than the others fascinated him. It was 
smiling at him, and he tried to smile back. Then it 
seemed to change, and it was no longer a star but 
Helen’s face. How bright and beautiful she appeared, 
and he wondered what she was doing away up there. 
That was a funny place for a woman to be. He called 
to her, and the sound of his voice startled him. It 
brought him somewhat to his senses, and for the first 
time he realised that his head was hurting him. Where 
was he? What was he doing there in the darkness? 
He reached out and felt the trees and bushes. Strange 
that he should be in such a place! 

Then all at once his memory returned. He struggled 
to his feet, and peered through the night. He had been 
struck on the head as he was on his way to help some 
one struggling in the water. He found it difficult to 
stand, he was so dizzy. He groped his way to the path, 
and there he sank down upon the ground. How his 
head did hurt! He raised his hand and felt a large lump 
back of his right ear. Somebody must have hit him. 
The thought stirred in him a feeling of anger, and 
aroused him to action. Again he struggled to his feet, 
and staggered along the path. How far away seemed 
his house. Could he ever reach it ? But still he moved 
forward, sometimes swaying, but never falling until but 
a few yards from the verandah. And there he fell, and 
only with difficulty was he able to drag himself up the 
steps and into the house. 

The world then to Nathan was suddenly turned up¬ 
side down. He was falling from a fearful height, and 
hands of demons were waiting to receive him. He 
struggled and tried to call for help, but words would 
not come to his lips. He saw Ned Preston and Bill 


Stricken Down 157 

Tooke jeering at him in his misery. Presently Helen’s 
face appeared. She was holding out her hands, and 
urging him to come to her. All this faded, and he was 
once more in the Penitentiary, beating against the door 
and walls of his cell in a vain effort to escape. And 
coming to his aid was a little child, with a wonderful 
halo about its head, and holding in his hands a cross, 
the very one Nathan had made and placed over the 
grave. But there was blood upon it now, and it was 
dripping from above. This puzzled him, but lifting his 
eyes, he saw two wonderful hands with a deep wound 
in each from which the blood was trickling. Then a 
face appeared, such as he had never seen before, so 
beautiful was it, and with eyes full of compassion. He 
knew it at once as the face of the Master, and on His 
head was a crown of thorns. With a cry of intense joy 
he raised his hands as if to grasp that wonderful form. 
Instantly the vision faded, and in its stead he beheld 
the anxious face of Parson Westmore bending over 
him. He tried to rise, but was too weak. 

“Where am I?” he feebly asked. “What has hap¬ 
pened ?” 

“Hush, hush,” was the reply. “You are right in your 
own bed.” 

“Then another man, a stranger, came to his side, who 
looked keenly into his face. 

“He will be all right now,” he heard him say. 

“Will he recover, doctor?” the Parson asked. 

“I believe so. But he must have very careful at¬ 
tention.” 

So that strange man was the doctor, Nathan mused. 
What in the world was he doing there ? But so tired 
was he that he did not ask any questions. The bed 
was comfortable, and he felt so sleepy. He knew that 


158 


The Master Revenge 

a soft light hand was placed upon his forehead, and he 
heard a woman’s voice. He thought it must be Helen’s, 
and he gently whispered her name. 

When he again opened his eyes, he felt altogether 
different. His sleep had refreshed him, and his mind 
was clearer. He saw a woman sitting near the window, 
reading. He knew she was a nurse by the dress she 
wore. She looked somewhat like Helen, although not 
so beautiful. But what was she doing there in his 
room ? Had he been ill ? He remembered that the Par¬ 
son and the doctor had been by his side when he had 
aroused from his strange dream. Yes, something must 
have happened, he felt sure. He made a motion as if 
to rise, and in an instant the nurse rose to her feet. 
She saw the light of understanding in his eyes, and 
smiled. 

“Are you feeling better?” she asked. 

“I guess so. But, say, I’m almost starved.” 

Again the nurse smiled, and at once left the room. 
In a few minutes she returned with some steaming 
broth. 

“Try this,” she said, as she dipped the spoon into 
the dish. “I am going to feed you.” 

“Do you think I am a baby and must be fed?” 
Nathan indignantly asked. 

“You must be a baby for a while, Mr. Stone, until 
you get a little more strength. I am merely obeying 
the doctor’s orders.” 

Nathan was forced to submit and take just as much 
broth as the nurse would permit. He wished to take 
an abundance, for he was very hungry. 

“Give me something stronger than this,” he ordered. 
“I want a big dinner.” 

“Then you will have to wait until it is cooked, Mr. 


Stricken Down 159 

Stone. And, besides, it would not be good for you just 
now. You have been very ill.” 

I believe I have. So you came to nurse me. Who 
sent you ?” 

Mr. Black, the lawyer. He is a personal friend of 
mine.” 

But how did he know I was sick?” 

“He saw about your accident in the paper, and 
brought me up in his car.” 

“He did! So I met with an accident, did I ?” 

“Oh, I merely called it that, as no one seems to know 
just what happened. But, there, you must not talk any 
more now.” 

I must talk, Nathan insisted. “It doesn’t hurt 
me. “Now, tell me, how long have I been in bed?” 

For nearly a week. The doctor was very anxious 
about you for several days.” 

“And did you take care of me all that time?” 

T was here, but the neighbors took turns in staying, 
especially at night. The Parson and Mr. Martin were 
here a great deal. They would not leave me alone with 
you. Now, I am not going to talk any more at present. 
You must go to sleep.” 

Nathan, however, was not inclined to do as he was 
told. While the nurse busied herself in the kitchen, he 
tried to recall the events which led up to his visit to the 
shore in response to the call for help. But his mind 
was not very clear, and he was thus thinking when the 
Parson arrived. The latter took his hand, and his face 
beamed with pleasure as he looked down upon the 
patient. 

“More like your old self, eh?” he queried. “My* I 
am glad.” 

“Yes, I feel better, thanks to you and other kind 


160 


The Master Revenge 

friends for what you have done for me. But what 
happened to me, anyway?” 

“That’s what we don’t know,” the clergyman re¬ 
plied, as he sat down by the side of the bed. ‘ ‘Peter 
Martin found you early one morning lying on the 
floor, raving at a great rate. He had a hard time with 
you, but as soon as he could get word to the neighbors, 
they came and gave a hand. Did you fall and hurt your¬ 
self?’ 

“I know very little about it, Mr. Westmore. I was 
sitting on the verandah that evening, when I heard a 
voice calling for help down by the shore. There was a 
great splashing of water, so I was certain that some¬ 
body was in danger of drowning. I hurried down as 
fast as I could, and when I came near the shore I was 
suddenly knocked down. How long I remained there 
I do not know, but have a faint recollection of stagger¬ 
ing up to the house. That is all I can remember ” 

“Strange! very strange!” the clergyman com¬ 
mented. “Are you sure you didn’t faint, owing to your 
hurrying so fast, and falling, struck your head against 
a stone?” 

“I am certain that nothing like that happened. I was 
struck by some person, for I heard a sound at my side 
just as the blow fell.” 

“Dear me! this is all very puzzling,” and the Parson 
rubbed his chin in a thoughtful manner. “I cannot un¬ 
derstand it at all. This is a very quiet neighborhood, 
and we never had such a mysterious thing to happen be¬ 
fore. But here comes the nurse, and she will give me 
a great scolding for keeping you talking. I must hurry 
away now, so good by for the present.” 


CHAPTER 17 


A Star and a Toad 

N ATHAN made steady improvement, and in a 
few days was able to be around again. He had 
no longer any need of the nurse, so she went back to the 
city, and once more he was left alone to do his own 
cooking and housework. He was glad of this, for the 
presence of the nurse, good and kind though she was, 
worried him. He was ashamed of his meagre house¬ 
hold effects, especially his dishes, which were very few. 
On the other hand, he missed her, and the place seemed 
lonely after her departure. He realized now more than 
ever that it takes a woman to make a house beautiful. 
He thought of what a home he might now have, with 
Helen by his side, but for the villainy of Ned Preston 
and his accomplice, Matthew Halton. And in addition 
to this he had been treacherously stricken down in the 
night. What else had Fate in store for him ? he won¬ 
dered, and was he to go on meeting with adventure after 
adventure to the end of his life? Other men around 
him did not have such serious experiences, so why 
should he be continually hounded by forces over which 
he had no control ? 

Nathan was anxious to learn if Preston had fulfilled 
the promises he had made to him that day in the city. 
He had heard nothing from him, and knew not what he 
had been doing. He determined to visit Mrs. Watters 
just as soon as he was able, and he believed that he could 
161 


162 


The Master Revenge 

find out something from her. As for Peter Martin, he 
had said nothing about receiving any money. The time 
allotted to Preston was now past, and it was evident 
that nothing had been done in the way of restitution. 

He was thinking of this the evening of the day the 
nurse left, as he was sitting upon the verandah. It was 
a night similar to the one when he had heard the cry of 
distress from the river. He had walked about some 
that afternoon, so felt quite well and strong again. In 
a day or two he would go to the city and consult Mr. 
Black, so he planned. He would also find out if Pres¬ 
ton had taken any steps to have his miserable houses 
improved. If not, he would have everything turned 
over to the lawyer and let him handle the matter. 

And as he sat there, Peter Martin limped in from the 
road, and took a seat by his side. Nathan offered his 
visitor some tobacco, which was gladly accepted. 

“Pm all out of terbaccer,” Peter explained, as he filled 
his well-blackened pipe. “I intended to git some at the 
store to-day, but fergot all about it. I guess it must 
have been the condition of Bill Tooke’s family that put 
it out of me mind.” 

“Why, what’s the matter there?” Nathan asked. 
“Not sick, I hope.” 

“They’re starvin’; that’s what’s the matter, Mr. 
Stone. Bill has disappeared, an’ no one knows where 
he has gone. He’s been away fer over a week, an’ left 
his family without a scrap of food in the house. The 
children were over to the store beggin’, an’ around to 
the neighbors, too, I guess. It looks as if the parish 
will have to keep ’em, fer Mrs. Tooke can’t manage 
alone with that brood.” 

“But has no one seen Bill?” Nathan enquired. 

“No, not since the night you met with that accident. 


A Star and a Toad 163 

There are some nasty stories goin’ around, but I put no 
credit in em. Bill is a bad man, we all know, as fer as 
stealin’ goes, but I never knew of him doin’ any real 
bodily harm sich as happened to you. He’s too much 
of a coward fer that.” 

So people think that he was the one who struck me 
down ?” 

Yes, that s what they’re sayin’, but not openly, ye 
understand. They’re jist whisperin’ it, so to speak, fer 
no one wants to be brought up fer slander. Bill might 
come back at any time, an’ he’s jist the man who would 
like to make trouble. Nuthin’ would suit him better 
than to sue somebody fer damages. He has nuthin’ to 
lose, while we have our farms. That has alius struck 
me as unfair. Why is it that a man who isn’t worth a 
hill of beans kin trump up a charge against some neigh¬ 
bor, an’ put him to no end of trouble an’ expense?” 

“But he would have to prove his charge, remember,” 
Nathan reminded. “The law will not allow a good citi¬ 
zen to be ruined by such a creature.” 

“That may be all very well as fer as it goes, Mr. 
Stone. But think of the trouble, worry, an’ expense a 
good citizen is put to in order to defend himself. He 
has to hire a lawyer, an’ that sometimes means as much 
as his place is worth. An’ supposin’ he does win his 
case, what does he git in return ? Nuthin’, an’ the man 
who brought in the charge gits scott free, ’cause he 
ain’t worth a cent. No, it ain’t fair by a long chalk.” 

While Peter was thus talking, Nathan was doing 
some serious thinking. He was rather surprised that 
people associated Bill Tooke with the deed down by the 
river. But he himself had thought of it ever since he 
regained his senses. It was no doubt revenge the man 
sought. If he had intended to kill him, he would have 


164 The Master Revenge 

finished him on the spot. Then, perhaps, when he found 
out how serious was the injury, he had become 
frightened and cleared out. Yes, it did seem reason¬ 
able. But did Tooke have any other object in view ? 
Was he Ned Preston’s tool? The idea came to him 
with startling intensity. Ned had a reason for doing 
away with the man who stood between him and the 
Penitentiary. But never before did Nathan imagine 
that he would resort to bodily injury to accomplish his 
purpose. 

“Have you seen Preston lately?” he asked, turning 
to Peter. 

“No, I have not, though I have heard about him. 
He’s been hittin’ the booze pretty lively, so I’ve been 
told. I do pity that wife of his.” 

By this Nathan knew that Ned had not fulfilled his 
promise, and had been drinking hard, no doubt, to 
drown his despair. But was that the only reason? he 
asked himself after his neighbor had gone. Did he 
imagine that he could evade the issue and escape ? The 
only way for him to do that was to obtain possession 
of Halton’s confession. This thought caused Nathan 
to straighten suddenly up, as a great fear leaped into his 
mind. Had he obtained it? Was that the cause of the 
attack ? Trembling with excitement, he rose to his feet 
and went into the house. The coat he had worn that 
night to the shore was hanging in his bedroom, and he 
had not used it since the accident. It took him but a 
minute to reach it, and thrust his right hand into the 
inside pocket. Then a cry burst from his lips. The 
paper was gone! 

Nathan stood there amazed and dumbfounded. His 
eyes stared straight before him, and his body was mo¬ 
tionless as a statue. At length he groped his way into 


A Star and a Toad 165 

the outer room, and sank down into a chair by the writ¬ 
ing-table. He understood now the meaning of that at¬ 
tack. Preston wanted the confession, and he had either 
done the cowardly deed himself, or had hired Bill Tooke 
to do it. All was clear, and so Ned had won again. 

Nathan s weak condition had much to do with the 
spirit of despair that now settled upon him. He had 
fought hard, but everything had been against him. He 
had tried to be true, to face the world bravely, and not 
whine like a whipped cur. Freedom from the Peni¬ 
tentiary had given him renewed energy, and he had de¬ 
termined to press manfully forward, clear his name, and 
to be of some use in the world. But all that seemed 
in vain. The powers of darkness were opposing his 
steps, and seeking his ruin. 

He rose from his chair and paced up and down the 
room. A deep, raging anger consumed him. Where 
was the justice of it all? he asked himself. What was 
the use of being honorable and upright when evil was 
permitted to triumph? He recalled his years of con¬ 
finement, suffering for the sin of others who had be¬ 
come prosperous. He thought of his parents, and what 
they had endured. He looked around and the loneli¬ 
ness of the room swept upon him. Others had their 
homes, with loved ones near. And what did he have ? 
A house, and nothing more. But his enemy, the man 
who had done him so great a wrong, had the one wo¬ 
man in all the world he held most dear. Why were 
such things permitted? 

As he moved to and fro, the beast nature within him 
slipped its leash and ran wild. No longer was Nathan 
the quiet, self-controlled carpenter, but a brute of the 
jungle. Devils in forms of human beings were con¬ 
tinually pursuing him. He could not escape, so he 


166 


The Master Revenge 

would fight, he would tear, he would rend asunder. He 
would be a law unto himself, for that was his only pro¬ 
tection. The law of the land had failed him in the past, 
and it might do so again. Ned Preston and Bill Tooke 
had triumphed for a time; they had robbed and injured 
him. But he would track them down, and have revenge. 
They had shown no mercy to him, so he would grant 
none to them. His emotion was intense, and the room 
seemed unbearably close and oppressive. The walls 
appeared to be crowding in upon him like menacing 
arms ready to crush him to death. Anywhere was 
better than in that silent house. With a moan he fled 
from the room, out into the night. The air cooled his 
hot face, and his brain cleared. He was weary from 
his overmastering excitement, so dropping upon the 
grass, he lay there in the midst of the dew. The stars 
twinkled as of old, and sounds of night drifted to his 
ears. These he hardly noticed for a time, but as his 
calmness returned, he stretched out his hands to the 
great vault above. It was a mute appeal for help, a 
longing for some sustaining power in his hour of agony. 

For some time he remained there, fighting the battle 
he had so often fought before. But he was weak now, 
and the floodgates of his passion were wide open. He 
had little strength to contend against the overwhelming 
torrent. His eyes were turned upward, and as he 
looked, a star shot across the sky, and then disappeared. 
He had often seen such a thing before, and had thought 
very little about it. But now it was different. It im¬ 
pressed him deeply, for that shooting star seemed to him 
as a sign etched for an instant in a streak of flaming 
glory by an unseen hand. It sent a thrill of strength 4 
through his soul, mingled with a sense of awe. Per¬ 
haps it was a message direct to him, he mused. It was 


167 


A Star and a Toad 

foolish of him, no doubt, to believe such an idea, and 
yet it brought some comfort to his heart, and soothed 
the fever within. 

Nathan was very still as he watched the heavens and 
thought of all this. Then something moved in the 
grass by his side. Almost intuitively he reached out in 
the darkness, and when his hand touched the body of a 
toad, he gave a slight gasp of fear, and shrank back. 
Then he laughed, and the sound of his own voice 
startled him. But the tension of his severe mental strain 
was broken, and he felt relieved. 

Slowly he rose to his feet and stood silently there in 
the night. His mind was very active, and he was 
thinking keenly. The glory and mystery of a flaming 
star, and the touch of a loathsome toad! What a con¬ 
trast ! Surely these two coming so close together must 
have a meaning. What was it ? Ah, now he grasped 
the idea. His life was meant to be glorious. He was in¬ 
tended to look up to things high and noble. But he 
had forgotten, so that vivid star in the sky was a re¬ 
minder to him of his manhood. And the toad—a re¬ 
pulsive thing of earth—was a warning lest he should 
lose the majesty within, and become a mean, vile crea¬ 
ture from which people would shrink in fear. Such 
was his interpretation, and it sent the blood coursing 
through his body. He felt much stronger. No, he 
would not sink; he would rise. He had been wronged, 
defeated, but he would win as a man, and not as a beast. 


CHAPTER 18 


Inspiration 

I T was late next morning when Nathan awoke. He 
was in no hurry to get up, as it was Sunday, and 
there was really nothing for him to do. He was much 
refreshed after his sleep, and the brightness of the day 
brought him renewed courage and strength. The men¬ 
tal storm of the previous night had now given place 
to a confident peace. He was in a better frame of 
mind, and when he at last got up, dressed, and went out 
of doors, life once more appealed to him. All nature 
was astir. The birds were chirping among the trees, 
the bees were humming amidst the flowers, and butter¬ 
flies were zigzaging here and there. The river was 
unruffled, and the great trees along the shore were mir¬ 
rored in the placid surface. There was peace every¬ 
where, in keeping with the Day of Rest. It affected 
Nathan like an elixir, and he drank in great draughts 
of the invigorating air. He resolved that no matter 
how he had been treated, he would enjoy this day. 
Come what might, evil or good, he would not worry 
about what lay beyond the bend in the road. 

He went into the house and prepared his late break¬ 
fast. It consisted of a fresh egg, toast and coffee. It 
was the first meal he really enjoyed since his accident. 
After he was through, he filled and lighted his pipe, 
and smoked to his heart’s content. A well-worn copy 
of Emerson’s Essays was nearby, for it had been his 
168 


Inspiration 169 

habit to read while eating. He opened it now, dipping 
here and there, and refreshing his mind with passages 
he had formerly underlined. They brought a thrill 
to his soul, especially sentences from the essay on 
Heroism. 

“Oh, friend, never strike sail to a fear! Come into port 
greatly, or sail with God the seas. Not in vain you live, 
for every passing eye is cheered and refined by the vision 
. . . I see not any road which a man can walk, but 

after the counsel of his own bosom. ... It may calm 
the apprehension of calamity in the most susceptible hearts 
to see how quick a bound nature has set to the utmost 
affliction of malice/’ 

Nathan liked these words and he thought upon them 
for some time. Last night he was ready to strike sail 
to fear. But he had been wonderfully strengthened 
and warned by a sign from heaven, and the toad he 
had touched. He was well aware that they had not 
been sent for his special benefit. They had merely 
happened while his soul was deeply stirred, and he had 
appropriated them for his good. 

Rising at length from the table, he washed his few 
dishes, and went down to the shore. This was his 
favorite haunt on fine Sundays, but he had a special 
reason for going there now. He had a faint hope that 
Halton’s confession might have dropped from his 
pocket, and that he might find it among the bushes. 
But although he searched most carefully when he 
reached the place, it was nowhere to be seen. Certain 
was he now that it had been stolen, and that Ned Pres¬ 
ton had destroyed it long ere this. 

Seating himself in a shady spot under a big branch¬ 
ing tree, he leaned back against the huge trunk and gave 


170 


The Master Revenge 

himself up to the spirit of meditation. It was good to 
be there, with no one near to disturb him. Of only one 
person he thought this afternoon, and how gladly he 
would have welcomed her. In fact, he did look more 
than once downstream, hoping that Helen might take 
it into her head to come that way. Of course, he was 
well aware that if she did appear he would leave the 
shore so that she might not see him. But it was pleas¬ 
ant to think about her on an afternoon such as this, 
and wonder what she was doing. 

He was startled by the church bell as it rang out 
its summons to worship. He had forgotten all about 
the service, and as he had not attended for two Sundays, 
he decided to go. And besides, he felt the need of 
the spiritual uplift which he had always received in that 
little sanctuary of peace. 

Nathan knew that this was the half-hour bell, so he 
waited until the final summons sounded forth ere he left 
the shore and made his way slowly across the field. 
He strolled through the grave-yard, stopping for a 
few seconds to look upon the little mound with the 
faded flowers and the cross he had erected. He 
was the last to enter the church, and he slipped 
quietly into a back seat just as the Parson was giving 
out the opening hymn. The first person he saw was 
Helen, seated at the little organ, ready to play in the 
absence of the regular organist. Here was a treat in 
store for him which he had not expected. He had 
not heard her play for years, but how often he had 
watched her in her old home, seated at the piano, play¬ 
ing some old familiar songs. He had always been 
charmed then, but never so much as on this bright Sun¬ 
day afternoon. He thought more of her, and was more 
intent upon watching her than the words that were 


Inspiration 171 

sung. He could see the side of her face quite clearly 
from where he was sitting, and he thought that she was 
somewhat pale. 

When the hymn was finished, Helen left the organ, 
and stepped back to where her two children were stand- 
ing. As she did so, she gave one quick, searching 
glance down at the congregation, and Nathan was sure 
that she looked straight at him. His heart beat fast, 
and a strange thrill of happiness possessed him. Per¬ 
haps she had turned to him with the feeling that he 
would help her. It seemed so to him, anyway, and he 
longed to know what was passing through her mind. 

The service that afternoon seemed especially adapted 
to Nathan’s needs. The hymns were appropriate to 
his state of mind, and the psalms for the day were of an 
inspiring nature. 

“The Lord is my light and my salvation, whom then 
shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life, of 
whom then shall I be afraid ? 

“Though an host of men were laid against me, yet shall 
not my heart be afraid, and though there rose up war 
against me, yet will I put my trust in Him.” 

He liked those words, and also the Parson’s sermon. 
It was a simple beautiful address on Temptation, and 
most helpful. It seemed as if the venerable man knew 
of Nathan’s terrible struggle the evening before, and 
had prepared his sermon for his special benefit. Among 
other things, he spoke about the loneliness of tempta¬ 
tion, and how it would often come to one in the dark¬ 
ness of night, and in times of deep depression. He 
referred to the solitude felt by Christ in His trial, in the 
desert, in Pilate’s judgment-hall, and in the garden. 
He closed his sermon with the words of a noble man: 


172 


The Master Revenge 

“You are tried alone—alone you pass into the desert— 
alone you must bear and conquer in the Agony—alone 
you must be sifted by the world. . . . The strength 

that is in a man can only be learnt when he is thrown upon 
his own resources and left alone. What a man can do in 
conjunction with others does not test the man. Tell me 
what he can do alone. . . . It is one thing to rush 

on to danger with the shouts and sympathy of numbers: 
it is another thing when the lonely chieftain of the sinking 
ship sees the last boatful disengage itself, and folds his 
arms to go down into the majesty of darkness, crushed, 
but not subdued.” 

Nathan was intensely interested in these words, and 
as he passed out of the church after the benediction had 
been pronounced, they kept running through his mind. 
He longed to know the author, and he determined to 
ask the Parson at the first opportunity. Indeed, this 
came sooner than he expected, for Mr. Westmore called 
to see him on his way up from the church. 

“I am pleased to know that you are getting along so 
well,” the clergyman remarked, as he stepped upon the 
verandah. “I saw you at church, and you seemed 
greatly interested in my sermon.” 

“And so I was,” Nathan replied, as he offered his 
visitor a chair. “It was one of the best sermons I ever 
heard. And I enjoyed so much your closing quota¬ 
tion. Would you mind telling me the author ? I should 
like to know more about him.” 

“Oh, that was from a sermon by Robertson, of 
Brighton, and it was preached over seventy years ago. 
Robertson is a great favorite of mine, and I most al¬ 
ways carry one of his books with me. I have a copy 
in my grip now, so shall be delighted to let you have 
it.” 


Inspiration 173 

The Parson went out to his waggon, and shortly- 
returned, holding in his hand a small volume. 

“This is it,” he began, “and you will notice how 
worn it is. I like to dip into this when I have a few 
minutes alone, and always get something new and in¬ 
spiring. Robertson was a remarkable man, saintly, 
and a true scholar. He committed to memory the 
whole of the New Testament, both in English and in 
Greek, just think of that! I must not tire you, how¬ 
ever, with a long account of the man. But read ‘The 
Loneliness of Christ/ from which I quoted to-day. 
Mrs. Preston is very fond of it, and knows most of it 
by heart. How her face brightened this afternoon 
when she heard those words so familiar to her. She 
is an exceptional woman. I supposed you noticed how 
well she played at the service. The organ became an 
instrument of .wonderful, power under her skillful 
touch. 

“I was greatly impressed by Mrs. Preston’s playing,” 
Nathan replied. “She seems to be very attentive to her 
religious duties.” 

“Indeed she is. But she does not stop there, for she 
puts her religion into practice. You would be surprised 
if I told you all the things she has done for the Fletch¬ 
ers. When she learned of their affliction, she was 
bound to go right out to the house and help them. But 
I induced her not to do so on account of her own 
children. She saw the wisdom of my advice, so sent 
food and clothing instead. She takes an interest in 
everyone in trouble. Why, when you were lying un¬ 
conscious, she came to my house several times a day 
to inquire about you. She asked no end of questions 
about your house, and if you were comfortable. She 
knows as much about you as I do. She is certainly 


174 The Master Revenge 

a woman very much out of the ordinary. But there, 
I have stayed too long, so must get on my way. Keep 
that book as long as you like, and when you have 
read it, I shall gladly let you have another.” 

Toward evening the weather changed, and the wind 
drifted in from the south. The sky became overcast, 
and Nathan knew that rain was not far off. He sat 
that night by his writing-table, reading the book the 
Parson had left. The more he read, the more he en¬ 
joyed it, for he found it a wonderful treasure house, 
filled with good things. Several of the noblest passages 
he committed to memery. At times he would place 
the book upon the table and meditate upon what the 
Parson had told him about Helen, and how fond she 
was of Robertson’s sermons. He wondered if she en¬ 
joyed them as much as he did, and which portions 
appealed to her most of all. What bliss it would be 
to have her with him, seated by his side, doing some 
fancy-work, perhaps, while he read aloud. He had 
often pictured just such a scene, and it was always 
evening. What a difference between his bright dream 
and the dreary reality. 

He recalled again the glance Helen had given him 
at church that afternoon, and what the Parson had said 
about her interest in him. Did she know who he really 
was? Perhaps she did, and her love might have been 
increasing during the years of her sad married life. 
It gave him comfort to feel that such was the case, 
and although she could never legally belong to him, 
he believed that he was much in her mind, and that 
she still loved him. 

He was thus thinking, when he heard footsteps upon 
the verandah, and then a timid knock sounded upon the 
door. Wondering who it could be, he rose quickly to 


Inspiration 175 

his feet, threw open the door, and looked out. A 
slight exclamation of surprise escaped his lips, and his 
eyes brightened with joy, for standing before him he 
beheld the white face and trembling form of Helen 
Preston! 


CHAPTER 19 


The Night Visitor 

<C J\ RE you Nathan Strong ?” the woman asked in 
JT\. a low voice. 

“Why, certainly/’ was the astonished reply. “Have 
you any doubt about it?” 

“No, no, only I wanted to be absolutely sure, and 
to hear it from your own lips. Oh, I shouldn’t be 
here!” and she glanced nervously around. 

“Do not be afraid,” Nathan assured. “Come in¬ 
side; it will be safer there.” 

He offered her a chair near the table, then turned 
and closed the door. He also drew down the blind of 
the one window to the room. He then came and stood 
by her side. 

“There, that is better,” he remarked. “No one can 
see us now.” 

“Oh, I am so glad, Mr. Strong, but-” 

“Don’t call me that,” Nathan interrupted. “I am 
not ‘Mr. Strong’ to you.” 

“I know it,” and the woman’s head bent a little, 
while a slight flush appeared upon her cheeks. “But it 
was so long ago I called you ‘Nathan’ that I thought 
you might consider it strange if I did so now.” 

“Years have made no difference in my feelings to¬ 
ward you,” Nathan quietly replied. “You are still 
‘Helen’ to me, and always will be. Let me be ‘Nathan’ 
to you just for to-night, at least.” 

176 



The Night Visitor 177 

For a few seconds there was silence in the room. 
Then Helen gave a slight nervous laugh, and again 
glanced anxiously around. 

“You wonder, no doubt, why I am here,” she be¬ 
gan. But I have something which I believe belongs 
to you. Here it is,” and she handed him a paper which 
she had drawn forth from under the rain-coat she was 
wearing. 

Nathan took it in his hand, noting, as he did so, that 
it was scorched as with fire. He unfolded it, and 
his eyes at once brightened with joy. It was the miss¬ 
ing confession! 

“Helen! Helen! Where did you get this?” he de¬ 
manded. 

“Oh, I hardly dare tell you,” she replied. “I am 
afraid, terribly afraid.” 

“You need not fear, Helen. I shall do nothing 
that will harm you in the least degree.” 

“I am not afraid of you, Nathan, but of Ned. If 
he should ever know that I gave you that paper he 
would kill me, I feel certain.” 

‘No he won’t. And, besides, he will never find 
out from me, so you need not worry. Did Ned steal 
this?” 

“I cannot say for sure. I only know that he came 
home drunk the night you were hurt, and I was sitting 
alone before the fire, which was very low. He was in 
a wretched condition, and could hardly stand. He went 
at once to the fire-place and threw in that paper. He 
then dropped upon the floor, and there he lay, talking 
in a wild manner about how he had outwitted his 
enemy. Thinking that the paper was of some special 
importance, and that Ned did not realise what he was 


178 


The Master Revenge 

doing, I managed to rescue it. I read it that night 
after Ned was in bed, and, oh!-” 

She ceased abruptly, and her agitated manner, and 
the strained expression upon her face, told of the 
agony she was undergoing. Nathan felt sorry for her, 
although he said nothing. 

“You can imagine what a shock I received,” she 
continued. “I knew that Ned was doing what was 
wrong, but never for an instant had I ever suspected 
him of such a cowardly deed as that. I was almost 
wild with grief and despair, and then when I heard 
what had happened to you, I thought I should go out 
of my mind. I was certain that Ned had done it in 
order to get that paper, and if you died he would be 
hung.” 

“It's a wonder you didn’t destroy this,” Nathan re¬ 
plied, motioning to the paper. There was a note of 
bitterness in his voice, for he believed that Helen had 
only been concerned about him for Ned’s sake. 

“I was tempted to destroy it,” the woman confessed. 
“I thought of my children, and what a terrible dis¬ 
grace it would be should their father be put in the Pen¬ 
itentiary, or—or hung. Anything but that, I reasoned. 
On several occasions I was on the point of destroying 
that paper, but each time I resisted the temptation.” 

“Why?” Nathan asked. “It seems strange that you 
didn’t do so. It would have protected your husband, 
yourself, and your children, would it not?” 

“Perhaps so, but it would not have been just to an 
innocent man.” 

“So you included me in your thoughts, I see.” 

“Certainly I did, especially when I found out how 
shamefully you had been treated. And, besides, I 
learned something else about you.” 



179 


The Night Visitor 

“What was that ?” 

Your remarkable generosity and forbearance in 
connection with my husband. When you received 
Matthew Halton’s confession, you might have taken 
immediate action against Ned, or, at least, exposed him 
to the world. You did nothing of the kind, however, 
but kept silent. A man who can do such a thing as that 
is far above the ordinary, so it seems to me.” 

“How did you find that out?” Nathan asked in 
surprise. 

“Oh, I merely surmised it. You had the confession 
but made no use of it.” 

“I am afraid that generosity and forbearance toward 
Ned had nothing to do with it, Helen. I did use it 
upon him, and it was partly for your sake.” 

“You did! For my sake!” 

“That was the principal reason. My regard for you 
has never changed, and I love you as much now, and 
perhaps more, than I did years ago. No doubt you 
have forgotten all about the past, but I have not, and 
never shall. Yes, I did it that you might not suffer.” 

Nathan took several rapid turns up and down the 
room, and again came to her side. 

“You know the reason now, Helen, and I am not 
ashamed to tell you. I wished to shield you and your 
little ones, for I know what a noble woman you are. 
How many in your situation would have brought such 
a paper as this to me? Why, they would have de¬ 
stroyed it at once.” 

“That was what I was tempted to do, as I have al¬ 
ready told you,” Helen replied. “Even last night I 
was wavering, but when I heard that sermon this after¬ 
noon on Temptation, I was undecided no longer. It 
thrilled me, especially the quotation about the ‘lonely 


180 


The Master Revenge 

chieftain of the sinking ship’ standing bravely at his 
post of duty, and with folded arms going 'down into 
the majesty of death, crushed, but not subdued.’ Why, 
I felt ashamed of myself for my cowardice, and waited 
impatiently for night to come that I might restore that 
confession to you.” 

Helen spoke rapidly, and her face was lighted with 
a glory such as Nathan had never seen there before. 
He knew that she was a woman who, like the 'lonely 
chieftain of the sinking ship,’ would go down to death 
rather than do a dishonest or an ignoble thing. He 
loved her more than ever for her courageous spirit, 
although he could not tell her so. And this was the 
woman united to such a man as Ned Preston! He 
turned abruptly to the door, opened it, and looked out. 
It was very dark, and the rain was now falling. Helen 
mistook his action, thinking that he considered her 
weak and foolish. 

"I hope you do not misunderstand me,” she said. 
“I have tried to do what was right, but God alone 
knows how hard it was.” 

“I understand you, perhaps more than you imagine,” 
Nathan replied, as he closed the door and returned to 
her side. "I know that you are a true woman, one of 
the noblest. I only wish that I could do something to 
help you. But what can I do except save you from 
more trouble?” 

"And you will not take action against Ned?” Helen 
eagerly asked. 

"Not if he does what I want him to do. I have de¬ 
manded that he make as full restitution as possible 
for a number of wrongs he has committed. So far, 
he has not complied with my request.” 


The Night Visitor 181 

“But how can he do that? Can he ever make 
restitution for the injury he has done you?” 

“I am not thinking of myself, Helen, but of others. 
I have asked Ned to pay Peter Martin what he owes 
him; to return to Mrs. Watters the money he cheated 
from her husband, and to improve his wretched tene¬ 
ment houses in the city. And more than that, and of 
greater importance to me, he is to give up his evil 
manner of living and to treat you as a husband 
should.” 

“Oh!” Helen’s startled exclamation, and her rigidly 
clasped hands plainly told of her great agitation. 
Her tear-dimmed eyes were turned upon Nathan’s 
face. “You ordered him to do that!” she gasped. 

“I certainly did, and gave him just seven days in 
which to do it. But so far, he has done nothing.” 

“My mind is now clear about something that was 
puzzling me,” Helen replied. “I could not understand 
how Ned knew you had that paper. He never said 
a word to me about it.” 

“Does he as a rule talk to you about his affairs?” 

“No, he never does. But it is a wonder he didn’t 
say something when he had been drinking heavily. 
That is the time I learn some of the secrets he always 
tries to keep from me.” 

“It’s strange that he never told about stealing those 
bonds.” 

“No, he never breathed a word about that, and he 
has never mentioned your name to me since we were 
married, so far as I can remember.” 

“And good reason, too. He caused me to go to 
the Penitentiary, and stole you from me. I wish 
to speak to you plainly now, Helen, for we are merely 
friends, and can be nothing more. But the man who 


182 The Master Revenge 

is your husband injured me more in taking you from 
me than in any other way. I could have borne the 
unjust imprisonment patiently if I had known that 
when I was free you would be mine. But when your 
letters to me ceased, and someone sent that article 
about your wedding, I lost hope, and longed to end 
my miserable existence. I had always clung to the 
idea that you believed me innocent until then.” 

“But why did you write me that letter saying you 
were guilty?” Helen asked in astonishment. 

“What letter ?” 

“The one I received from you, in which you said 
that you had stolen those bonds, and that I was not 
to write to you any more.” 

Helen was looking straight into Nathan’s eyes as 
she uttered these words. But she was unprepared 
foe the sudden transformation which swept over his 
face, and the terrible expression which leaped into his 
eyes. She shrank instinctively back, and lifted her 
hand as if for protection. Nathan, however, seemed 
not to notice this, but grasped her by the arm, his 
whole body trembling violently. 

“Helen! Helen! are you telling me the truth?” 
he asked in a voice that was little more than a hoarse 
whisper. “Surely you didn’t get a letter like that 
—and from me! Impossible!” 

“But I did, Nathan, and it was on the same kind 
of paper you always used when writing from the 
Penitentiary, and the writing was like yours. You 
must have written it.” 

Slowly Nathan s hand moved from the woman’s 
arm and dropped to his side. His slightly-bent 
shoulders straightened until he was standing erect as 
a statue. The blood surged wildly through his veins, 


The Night Visitor 183 

although outwardly he appeared unusually calm. But 
it was the calmness of a man who through many trials 
and much injustice had become master of himself. 
His eyes, which had been staring hard before him, 
turned to Helen’s uplifted, tear-stained face. A great 
longing swept upon him to stoop and enfold this un¬ 
happy woman in his arms, urge her to leave her 
wretch of a husband, and flee with him to the re¬ 
motest part of the world. He could use Halton’s 
money, and with it make amends for the wrongs he 
and Ned Preston had committed. The next instant 
he had banished this temptation, as unworthy of him¬ 
self and the woman he loved. No, he would not run 
away, but fight through like a man. 

“Helen, I did not write that letter,” he at length 
found voice to say. “I know nothing about it.” 

The woman looked at him as if she had not heard 
aright. She tried to speak, but words would not come. 
With a cry of despair, she bowed her head upon the 
table and sobbed most pitifully. Nathan made no 
attempt to soothe her, but stood silently by her side. 
When the flood of grief had at last spent itself, he 
laid his right hand gently upon her shoulder. 

“That letter ruined both our lives, Helen. Can 
you not surmise who wrote it and forged my name?” 

“Oh, I have no doubt who it was,” the woman 
replied, as she raised her head and looked again into 
Nathan’s face. “I need no one to tell me that. But 
what villainy! What treachery!” 

She sprang to her feet, her eyes ablaze with anger. 
She stood there, lithe and supple, her graceful form 
perfectly erect. The change was startling. The 
quiet, confiding woman had been suddenly trans¬ 
formed. She had patiently endured and suffered for 


184 


The Master Revenge 

years, but this new revelation of the baseness of the 
man she called “husband” was the breaking-point. 

“I must go now,” she declared, “but I go a different 
woman from the one I was when I entered this house. 
Oh, Nathan, if I had only known!” 

“I understand, Helen. It would have meant so 
much to us both. But now it is too late.” 

“Yes, yes, too late!” 

She sighed, and held out her hand. 

Good-night, Nathan,” she simply said. “I must go 
now.” 

“Not alone along that dark road, Helen. I am go¬ 
ing with you.” 

“You must not. You are not strong. I am not 
afraid of anything to-night. I need the darkness, 
for it will cover my grief.” 

Nathan, however, paid no heed to her words, but 
turning, he put on his rain-coat and hat. Seeing that 
he was determined to accompany her, Helen made no 
further protest. Together they passed out of the 
house and along the dark, silent road. Neither spoke, 
but walking side by side, each was sustained by the 
other’s presence. At last Helen stopped. 

“This is far enough, Nathan,” she told him. “I 
can see the light ahead. Good-night, and may God 
bless you.” 

Impulsively the man reached out, found her hand, 
and raised it to his lips. Then they separated, one 
to go back to his lonely house, the other on to a life 
from which all joy and hope had fled. 


CHAPTER 20 


A Desperate Attempt 

N ATHAN was in a most thoughtful mood as he 
walked home that night. He was not really un¬ 
happy, for the thought of Helen’s visit filled his soul 
with an indefinable joy. That she had come to him at 
last after long years of separation, and had talked with 
him, meant much to the lonely man. The new revela¬ 
tion of Preston’s baseness stirred him deeply, but he 
thought less of him now than he did of Helen. He 
well knew that Ned was capable of any degree of 
infamy. This was but another in the long chain of 
evil deeds he had been forging, and for which he would 
have to answer when the time came. With Halton’s 
confession once more secure, Nathan felt himself 
again master of his adversary. 

Reaching at length his house, he entered, and the 
first thing that met his eyes was something white 
lying upon the floor near the table. He picked it up, 
and knew it instantly as Helen’s handkerchief, which 
she had evidently dropped in her excitement. It was 
but a small, fragile thing of silk, delicately embroid¬ 
ered, and in one corner there was the single letter 
“H.” But it meant much to him. It belonged to her 
who was dearer to him than life. She had held it 
in her hands, and with it she had wiped away the 
tears from her eyes. Impulsively he pressed it to his 
185 


186 The Master Revenge 

lips, but the next instant his hand dropped, and he 
glanced guiltily around. 

“What a fool I am,” he growled. “I must stop this 
nonsense. What right have I to be doing such a thing ? 
Helen is another man’s wife, and here I am kissing 
her handkerchief.” 

Picking up the lamp, he went into the kitchen and 
lifted down from the shelf the little box which con¬ 
tained his precious treasures. He carried it to the 
table, opened it, and looked in. There was the five-cent 
piece the bright-faced lad had given him weeks before. 
He had forgotten all about it, but now he lifted it 
out and held it in his hand. The memory of the day 
he had received it came back to him, and the thrill that 
had stirred his heart by the child’s manly action. 
Carefully he wrapped the coin up in the silk handker¬ 
chief, and dropped the little package into the box. 
When he had replaced the latter upon the shelf he went 
back into the other room, and sat there for some time 
in deep thought. A strange new glory seemed to per¬ 
vade the place, especially the table upon which Helen 
had bowed her head. It was the transforming power 
of love in the heart of the silent man which made the 
difference. 

Nathan went to the city in the morning on the early 
boat. He had slept well, so was in good form for the 
trying work he knew that lay ahead that day. His 
main object was to meet Ned Preston, and ascertain 
what he intended to do. There would be no further 
delay, Nathan was determined about that. He had 
Ned once again in his control, and he would not loosen 
his grip until he had obeyed him to the letter. 

Upon reaching the city, he went immediately to 
Preston’s office, but he was not there. In fact, he 


A Desperate Attempt 187 

would not arrive for another hour, so the young woman 
in attendance informed him. Mr. Preston had phoned 
from his country place that he was unexpectedly de¬ 
tained that morning. Rather than wait, Nathan de¬ 
cided to go to see Mrs. Stairs. He had been anxious 
to learn how she was getting along, and what had be¬ 
come of her husband. He was surprised to find them 
both at home, looking quite happy. They gave him a 
hearty greeting, and explained all that had recently 
taken place. 

“Through the kindness of many friends I am out 
on parole,” Henry told him. “In a few days I hope 
to be able to work, and Mr. Black has obtained a 
position for me. I can never repay that man for his 
great kindness.” 

“Neither can we repay you, Mr. Strong, for what 
you have done for us,” Mrs. Stairs added. “But for 
you, Henry would have died by the side of the road. 

I am certain of that.” 

When Nathan left the house an hour later, his heart 
was filled with thankfulness. He felt satisfied that the 
Stairs would get along very well now, and that they 
would not be in dire need again. He intended to keep 
them under his special care, for he believed they were 
people worthy of much consideration. 

Preston had just arrived as Nathan once again 
entered the office, and he was standing talking sharply 
to his stenographer. As he turned and saw Nathan, 
he stared hard at him for a few seconds. He seemed 
upon the point of saying something, but instead, he 
motioned to his inner office. 

“What are you doing here?” he sternly asked, after 
he had closed the door, walked over to his desk, and 
sat down. 


188 


The Master Hevenge 

“To see you, of course,” Nathan replied. “What 
else would bring me?” 

“H’m, is that so? I should think you’d be ashamed 
to come after what you did to my wife.” 

“Do to your wife! Why, what do you mean?” 

“Oh, you know, all right. Filled her mind with 
all sorts of nonsense, and turned her against me. She 
raised hell this morning, and that’s what kept me 
late.” 

“Following your example, is she? But she can 
never show such a devilish crop as you can boast of, 
Ned. You evidently disliked a dose of your own 
stuff. What did she tell you?” 

“Oh, nothing much; just a few words. But, Lord! 
they cut like a knife, and the way she looked at me 
with those wonderful eyes of hers! I can’t get it out 
of my mind. And it’s all your doings.” 

“Perhaps so, Ned, but whose fault is it, after all? 
Didn’t you bring it upon yourself? You know what 
your life has been, so why are you surprised when 
your wife has learned something more of your base¬ 
ness. But I didn’t enlighten her.” 

“You didn’t! How did she find out, then?” 

“You will have to ask her yourself. But I am not 
here to talk about this. I want to know why you 
have not obeyed my orders?” 

“Orders! Your orders mean nothing to me. I’m 
not your slave.” 

“You seemed to think you were the last time I was 
with you in this office. Have you forgotten that?” 

“Not at all. But things have changed since then. 
If you happen to have Halton’s confession with you, 
please read it.” 

Nathan noted the expression of triumph upon Pres- 


189 


A Desperate Attempt 

ton’s face, and the sneering smile that lurked around 
the corners of his mouth. But when he had brought 
forth the paper, and held it up, there was a startling 
change. Preston’s eyes grew big with astonishment, 
and his hands trembled. 

“W-where did you get it?” he gasped. 

“Get it!” Nathan repeated. “Why do you ask that ? 
You knew very well that I had it.” 

“Yes, yes, but I thought—I thought-” 

“Your thinking didn’t do any good, Ned, so don’t 
try so hard again. It might get you into more trouble. 
I am not going to ask you how you got this paper 
from me the night I was stricken down on my own 
shore. Neither am I going to tell you how I happen 
to have it now. But here it is, and if you don’t obey 
my orders at once, I shall take immediate action. 
There will be no further delay this time, remember.” 

Preston was looking keenly at the document, and 
he noticed that the edges were somewhat singed. He 
then stared hard at Nathan. 

“Are you a man or a devil?” he asked in a hoarse 
voice. “I burned that paper in the grate, and here 
you have it with you.” 

“And so you acknowledge the deed, eh, Ned? Well, 
that is interesting. But look here, you’ll find me to 
be a devil, all right, if you don’t do as I order. I 
want you to answer at once. Are you going to obey 
me, or are you not ?” 

“What is it you want me to do, Nathan? I guess 
I’ve forgotten.” 

“H’m, your memory must be very poor, Ned. Any¬ 
way, I shall soon tell you. You must pay Peter Mar¬ 
tin what you owe him, and also Mrs. Watters, the 
widow, whose husband you robbed, and broke his 



190 


The Master Revenge 

heart. Settle with these two first of all, and we can 
attend to the other matters afterwards.” 

“But this is a regular hold-up,” Preston declared. 
“It’s disgraceful!” 

“You didn’t seem to think so when you cheated 
them. You considered it shrewd business, no doubt, 
when you had them in your clutches. Perhaps you 
will see differently now.” 

“I shan’t pay them,” Preston vehemently cried. 
“Five thousand dollars! Why, it’s outrageous! They 
can go to the devil for all I care, and you, too.” 

“Very well, then, Ned; if that is your decision, it’s 
no use for me to waste any more time. You have had 
fair warning, and I have been more lenient to you 
than you deserve. Mr. Black can attend to you now.” 

Nathan turned and was moving toward the door, 
when Preston called him back. 

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Nathan,” he cried. 
“This is a comtemptible piece of business, and I’d 
like to skin you alive. But you’ve got me in a fix, 
and I can’t help myself. It would not do for this to 
get abroad. And, besides, it would kill my father and 
mother. Yes, I might as well pay up, and get the 

whole d- business settled. Will you deliver the 

cheques if I make them out?” 

“Certainly,” Nathan replied, returning to the desk. 
“I shall leave them with Mrs. Watters and Mr. Mar¬ 
tin this evening.” 

Preston pulled open a drawer of his desk, as if 
to get his cheque book. Swiftly his right hand was 
thrust in, and the next instant Nathan was staring into 
the muzzle of a levelled revolver. 

“Ah, I guess that’ll bring you to your senses quicker 
than anything else,” Preston remarked. “Now hand 



A Desperate Attempt 191 

over that confession, and no fooling about it, either. 
If you don’t I’ll shoot you as I would a dog. Hurry 
up and get a hustle on.” 

Nathan looked steadily at the infuriated man, and 
realized that what he threatened he would do. He 
noticed, however, that the hand holding the weapon 
trembled, and that it would take but little to divert the 
aim. A sudden idea flashed into his mind, so thrust¬ 
ing his hand into his pocket, he brought forth the 
coveted paper. 

“Ah, I knew that would fetch it,” Preston sneered, 
as he eagerly reached out his left hand. “Your little 
game didn’t work after all, did it?” 

Nathan’s only reply was to thrust the confession 
across the desk, and as he did so, his hand struck the 
revolver a slashing blow, which knocked it out of 
Preston’s nervous hand. He then leaped forward, 
seized Ned’s wrists, and forced him back into the 
chair from which he had attempted to rise. A fierce 
but brief struggle at once ensued, for the baffled man 
was no match for the powerful form bending over 
him. In a few minutes Preston was forced to give 
up. He sat very still, panting heavily from his ex¬ 
ertions. Nathan then picked up the revolver from the 
floor, extracted the cartridges, and placed the weapon 
in his pocket. 

“It’s better there,” he calmly remarked. “A coward 
such as you are, Ned, should never handle such a thing 
as that. Now, what have you to say for yourself? 
Nothing? Well, perhaps silence is better. But let 
me tell you this, if some men were in my place, they 
would crush every bone in your body. Why, I am 
surprised at my own self-restraint, considering the 
way you have treated me.” 


192 The Master Revenge 

He stood near the desk intently watching the cower¬ 
ing man before him. Presently Preston looked up, 
and a quiver shook his frame. He stared for a few 
seconds at Nathan, and all at once the enormity of 
the crime he had almost committed rushed upon him 
like a flood. He buried his face in his hands, as if 
to hide some terrible vision that had come before him. 
He raised his head, and struggled to his feet. 

“Nathan! Nathan!” he cried. “Heavens, I might 
have done it! Oh! oh!” 

“You intended to do so, didn’t you, Ned?” 

“I did! Before God, I did! You saved me from 
murder!” 

He raised his right hand to his face, and staggered 
back a step. Nathan knew that the man was terribly 
in earnest, and that an overwhelming fear possessed 
him. 

“How could you do it, Nathan?” he hoarsely asked. 

“Do what?” 

“Be strong and patient, while I have been acting the 
fool? Some men would have killed me.” 

“I know it, Ned. But never mind about that now. 
Make out those cheques, and be quick about it.” 

“Ah, yes, the cheques,” and Preston sank down into 
his chair. “I shall do it at once, and get it ended.” 

He picked up his cheque book and fountain pen, 
but his hand trembled so much that he could hardly 
write. Several times he was forced to stop. But at 
last the work was completed, and the cheques handed 
to Nathan, who examined them most carefully. 

“This will do for to-day, Ned,” he told him. “But 
get busy and attend to those tenement houses of yours. 
Remember, also, what I told you about Helen.” 

Before Preston could reply, the telephone rang. 


A Desperate Attempt 193 

Indifferently he lifted the receiver, and as he listened, 
his face grew as white as death. He tried to say some¬ 
thing, but words would not come to his lips. He hur¬ 
riedly replaced the receiver, and rose to his feet. 

My father is very ill; dying!” he announced. 

Heart trouble. O Lord! haven’t I endured enough 
for to-day. My father dying! My father dying!” 

He seized his hat, rushed across the room, and tore 
open the door. Nathan slowly followed, after he had 
carefully placed the cheques and the confession safely 
away in one of his pockets. 


CHAPTER 21 


Repairing Things 


ERY glad indeed was Nathan to be back home 



again, and able to settle down to steady work. 


The excitement of the past weeks had disturbed him 
very much, and he desired quietness and rest. His own 
house was a more pleasant abode, after all, with the 
open spaces surrounding it, the friendly sentinel trees, 
and the pure invigorating air. Here a man could be 
renewed in mind and body, and do his work most effect¬ 
ively. The city did not appeal to him. There was too 
much confusion of competition, the mad rush after ex¬ 
citement and the newest fads, with little chance for the 
soul to expand and develop. He had truly learned 
that the real kingdom of God is within one’s self, and 
lacking that, all the glitter and outward trappings of 
the world will not give him complete contentment. 
Hence, his thoughts, his work, and his books, occupied 
all his waking hours. 

He rejoiced over the happiness that had come to 
Mrs. Watters and Peter Martin upon the receipt of the 
cheques. The tears of joy that glistened in the eyes 
of the widow, and her quiet expression of gratitude, 
were reward enough. She was not a woman given to 
effusion, for years of struggle and sorrow had deepened 
the self-restraint in her naturally reserved nature. With 
Peter Martin it was different. As he held the cheque 
in his hand, and learned whence it had come, he was 


194 


Repairing Things 195 

greatly moved and sobbed like a child, so much did it 
mean to him. 

“This brings new life to me,” he at length found 
voice to say. “I never expected any justice from Ned 
Preston, so why he has done it now is more’n I kin un¬ 
derstand. Two thousand dollars! Why, it’s a fortune 
to me.” 

He accompanied Nathan to the road and, ere turning 
back, he seized his neighbor’s hand and held it for a 
few seconds in a firm grip. 

“God bless ye, sir,” he fervently said. “You had an 
important part in giftin' that money, I feel sure, fer 
Ned Preston would never have done it of his own free 
will. I kin never repay ye.” 

Nathan thought of all this as he sat alone that night 
in his house. How much better it was to force Preston 
to make some restitution for his evil deeds than to 
thrust him behind prison bars. He recalled the man’s 
agony in the office, and wondered whether it would 
change his manner of life, and how his father’s sudden 
death would affect him. So far he had compelled Ned 
to obey him, but he wished to make him do more than 
that. It was his desire now that he should turn from 
the errors of his ways, live the right life, and be a 
faithful husband to Helen. If he would do that, 
Nathan could then overlook his injury to him in the 
past. It would be far better, and it would give him 
greater satisfaction than to seek mere brute revenge. 
And unless Ned’s conscience was completely seared, 
this after all might be the most effective revenge, when 
the guilty one would cry like the unhappy king of old, 

“My conscience has a thousand several tongues, 

And every tongue brings in a several tale. 

And every tale condemns me for a villain." 


196 


The Master Revenge 

Nathan hoped that such might be the case with Pres¬ 
ton. He wanted him to suffer, but from the suffering 
to emerge purified and changed. It would be very- 
hard, he well knew, to crush back the feeling of joy 
should he learn that Ned was enduring the torments 
of the damned. But he would endeavor, at any rate, 
to resist the temptation and to prove himself a man of 
strength. If he could do that, it would be a royal re¬ 
venge as set forth by the life and teaching of the Mas¬ 
ter of Galilee. 

Following swiftly upon this train of thought came 
a vision of Helen that night she had visited him. He 
beheld again her white face turned appealingly to his, 
and her dark, wonderful eyes, tear-gemmed and fear¬ 
ful. He saw the grace of her white hand as it rested 
upon the partly-opened door, and her shapely head, 
crowned with a wealth of black hair, bending so path¬ 
etically over the table. She had needed him that night, 
and she needed him now. But should Ned become a 
changed man, what would be the result? Would Helen 
be satisfied? Would she ever think of Nathan Strong, 
or again seek his assistance ? Perhaps not. Yet he had 
the feeling that her heart belonged to him, even though 
she was the wife of another. Why should he desire, 
then, the reformation of the man Helen did not love, 
and never could love? Should he not wish that Ned 
might continue in his old way if it would mean the 
drawing of Helen nearer to him ? This was the great 
temptation which beset the lonely man, and fierce was 
the struggle before the victory was won. But win he 
did, and came forth from the conflict stronger than 
ever. The strength of the vanquished enemy had en¬ 
tered into his own soul, and with it came a new power 
and a comforting peace. 


Repairing Things 197 

Nathan had a keen desire to continue his carpentering 
work, so the next day he turned over in his mind what 
he should do. He longed to be once more building 
and repairing. He did not wish to do it now for 
money, but for the joy of the doing, and not for those 
who were well able to pay, but for the ones who could 
not. He had no intention of going elsewhere, but to 
seek opportunities in his own neighborhood. He felt 
that there must be such work he could do, if only he 
could find out where it was. 

It is an established law of nature that every desire 
has somewhere its fulfillment. Nathan found this to 
be true in his case when the Parson called that after¬ 
noon. They were seated upon the verandah, and the 
visitor was talking about the church, the graceful spire 
of which could be seen in the distance among the tree 
tops. 

“We hope to celebrate the seventy-fifth anniversary 
of the building of that church next year,” Mr. West- 
more announced. “But before that takes place many 
things will have to be done upon it. I am almost 
ashamed when strangers come to the services. The 
roof is leaking in several places, the seats need repair¬ 
ing, and nearly all of the book-racks are gone. I 
hardly dare think of other improvements, but if my 
people will only attend to those three I shall be most 
grateful. They are willing enough, but, poor souls, 
they have little spare time and not much money. I wish 
that I didn’t have to take a cent from them, but could 
give my services free. That has been my great longing 
ever since I entered the ministry.” 

The Parson sighed, and his usually jovial face be¬ 
came grave and thoughtful as he gazed over at the 
church. Nathan then knew that his desire was about 


198 The Master Revenge 

to be fulfilled. Here was a work he could do for the 
love and joy of it. Briefly he explained his idea, and 
requested permission to go ahead. 

“This is most unexpected, Mr. Stone/’ the clergyman 
declared. “Why, I never for a moment imagined such 
a thing. I hope you do not think that I was hinting 
at this when I referred to the condition of the church. 
Your doing it never once entered my mind.” 

“I know it,” and Nathan smiled at the worthy man’s 
concern. “All the hinting in the world could not induce 
me to undertake such a work. It was prompted by a 
deeper and a truer spirit. But if you agree to my pro¬ 
posal, suppose we go to the church now and look it 
over.” 

And thus it came to pass that Nathan found a work 
to do that was dear to his heart and gave him no little 
pleasure. Peter Martin gladly gave his time in hauling 
boards and shingles for which he would accept no 
payment. He wished to assist in shingling the roof, 
but Nathan objected. 

“You have your own place to look after, Mr. Mar¬ 
tin,” he reminded, “so let me attend to the House ot 
God. I have nothing else to do, so it will keep me out 
of mischief.” 

The news of what Nathan was doing soon spread 
throughout the parish. The quiet carpenter was the 
subject of numerous conversations, and he was steadily 
winning the approval of all, although he still remained 
a mystery to the people. They had heard about the 
cheques he had obtained from Preston for Peter Mar¬ 
tin and Mrs. Watters, of his kindness to the Fletchers, 
and now this additional work of repairing the church. 
They had not forgotten the attack that had been made 
upon him at his own shore, and still associated Bill 


Repairing Things 199 

Tooke with the deed. Although the latter had sneaked 
back, and pretended that he had been away on a visit 
to some relatives, no one believed him. He was not 
Jong in learning that all looked upon him with suspicion, 
which made his lot harder than ever. He hated Nathan, 
and as the carpenter increased in favor, so much the 
more he decreased. This was not at all to Bill’s lik- 
ing, so he turned over in his mind how he might seek 
revenge upon the man he considered his enemy. 

Knowing nothing of the stir he was causing in the 
community, Nathan went steadily on with his work. 
The days were fine, so he made excellent progress. The 
Parson was a daily visitor to the church, and his heart 
was full of gratitude as he observed what was being 
done. It seemed almost too good to be true that his 
fond hopes were at last being realised. 

One evening after he had eaten his supper, Nathan 
had occasion to ga over to the church. He was work¬ 
ing in his shop upon the book-racks, and he needed a 
small plane he had been using that afternoon while 
shingling the roof. As he drew near the church, he 
was surprised to hear the sound of the organ. The 
door was open, and the music was welling forth upon 
the still air. He knew the tune, for it was one of his 
favorites, “Lead, Kindly Light,” and the unknown 
organist was playing with considerable expression. 
Wondering who it could be, Nathan stepped softly to 
the door and looked in. To his great surprise he saw 
Helen sitting there, her face upturned to the east win¬ 
dow, and her eyes fixed upon the figure of The Good 
Shepherd, leading His sheep, and tenderly holding a 
little lamb in His arms. Nathan had often admired 
this window, which had been placed there in memory 
of a former rector of the parish. 


200 


The Master Revenge 

It was only a minute that Nathan stood at the door 
watching the woman at the organ. He wished to re¬ 
main longer, in fact, speak to her. But he did not 
wish her to think that he had been prying upon her, 
so he decided to get the plane and go back to his house. 

He had just turned, and was casting one more linger¬ 
ing glance upon the fair face, when the music abruptly 
ceased, and Helen turned quickly around. Before 
Nathan could escape, she had caught sight of him, so 
leaving the organ she came down the middle aisle. 
Nathan stepped forward to meet her, and as she held 
out her hand, he noted the expression of pleasure in 
her eyes. 

'‘I caught you just in time, didn’t I?” she began. 

“You certainly did, Helen. But please excuse me for 
being here,” Nathan apologized. “I came over for 
my plane, and hearing the sound of the organ, I was 
naturally curious to find out who was the musician, 
never for a moment expecting that it was you.” 

“I used to come here several times a week,” Helen 
replied. “But lately I have been too lazy. I like this 
place, it is so quiet and comforting, while that east 
window is an inspiration. I think you understand what 
I mean.” 

“Indeed I do, Helen. I have come down from the 
roof more than once on purpose to rest a while in 
here. That window appeals to me, too. We all feel 
the need of The Good Shepherd, do we not?” 

“I know that I do, Nathan, especially so now when 
my troubles are so heavy. You have heard about Ned, 
I suppose?” 

“Nothing recently. What is he up to now?” 

“Acting worse than ever. Oh, he is terrible! He 
has been drinking hard and acting in such a strange 


Repairing Things 201 

manner. When he is not drinking, he is so restless. 
The children annoy him when he is at home, and once 
when I was playing on the piano he rushed from the 
house and did not return until late at night. His face 
has been so haggard that it is startling.” 

"‘Perhaps his father’s sudden death is troubling 
him,” Nathan suggested. “He thought a great deal 
of him, so I understand.” 

“No, it cannot be altogether that. It must be some¬ 
thing else, but just what it is I cannot make out. He 
came home this afternoon, and paced for hours, so it 
seemed to me, up and down his room. He ate hardly 
any supper, and left shortly afterwards in the car. I 
have been so worried for days, and this evening I felt 
I could not endure the strain much longer. For relief, 
I went out upon the river, and my boat seemed to head 
this way of its own accord. Perhaps it was The Good 
Shepherd leading me to this House of Rest. I have 
that feeling, anyway, and it gives me much comfort.” 

“I think I understand,” Nathan replied. “I have 
experienced the same thing myself. How I wish that 
Ned could do so, too. What a difference it would make 
to him and to you.” 

“I am afraid he never will, Nathan. He is very 
much opposed to churches, and to everything connected 
with religion. I would not like to tell you what he 
said when he heard that you were repairing this build¬ 
ing, and doing it without any charge.” 

“You needn’t tell me, Helen, as I can form a pretty 
good idea what he would naturally say. But suppose 
we forget all such disagreeable thoughts for a while 
and have some music. I am sorry that I interrupted 
you.” 

Helen at once went back to the organ, and with 


202 


The Master Revenge 


Nathan standing by her side, she played hymn after 
hymn. The glory of departing day flooded the church 
with a soft rich light. It illuminated chancel and sanc¬ 
tuary; it transfigured the worn pews and kneeling- 
benches, while the cracked and stained walls appeared 
less unsightly. It touched the head and face of the 
woman at the organ and the man standing by her side. 
As the light of day gradually faded, so did their 
troubles. They drifted back to days long past, and to 
memories sweet and precious. So absorbed were they 
m the music and in each other’s company, that they did 
not notice Bill Tooke, who had glided up stealthily 
to the door of the church, and stood for a few minutes 
watching the two with eyes of wicked triumph. Bill 
had come across something of great importance to him 
and ere long he was speeding on his way, eager to im¬ 
part his discovery to another. 

At length Helen ceased playing, and rose to her 
teet. 

“My, how late it is!” she exclaimed. “I must hurry 
home. How fast the time has gone!” 

.. Sideside the y waIked out of the church, and over 



the field toward the shore where the little boat 
lying. They talked about other days, the friends 

nan known o-nr1 _, • .< „ 


a lone figure as motionless as the placid water 
which he was steadily gazing. 


CHAPTER 22 


When the Bell Rang 

W HILE Helen Preston was bending steadily to 
the oars, moving straight toward her own 
shore, two men were standing upon a hill some dis¬ 
tance away. They were watching her, for the darkness 
had not deepened sufficiently to hide her from view. 
One of the men was doing most of the talking at 
first, while the other merely interjected an occasional 
question. 

“I saw them in the church/’ Bill Tooke was saying, 
‘‘an’ their heads were right close together. Your wife 
was sittin’ at the organ, an’ Stone had his right arm 
around her.” 

“Was my wife playing?” Preston asked. 

“Oh, yes, that is, her fingers were runnin’ over the 
keys, but I guess she didn’t know what she was 
doin’.” 

“Did you ever see them there before, Bill?” 

“Yes, several times.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” 
“Because I thought it was none of my business. 
But I couldn’t resist tellin’ ye this time, fer I thought 
ye should know. They’re in love with each other, by 
the way they acted.” 

“And I believed that Helen always stayed at home,” 
Preston remarked, as if to himself. “I never im¬ 
agined this of her. She has always pretended to be 

203 


204 


The Master Revenge 

so religious that I felt I could trust her. But that is 
what this d-religion does,” he fiercely added. 

Women are really no better than men, fer all their 
church goin’,” Bill replied. “They should be better, 
though, fer we look to them to be examples to our 
children, an’ teach ’em right things. But men must 
have their fling now an’ then, which is only natural. 
You do it yerself, sir.” 

“I know I do, Bill, and so do you. But we expect 
our wives to act differently. They should stay at home; 
that’s the place for them.” 

“An’ not be runnin’ after a jail-bird, Ned?” 

“Certainly not. That d- fool has caused too 

much trouble in my life already. He’s a pious hypo¬ 
crite, that’s what he is. He’s interfered a great deal 
with me in the past, but when it comes to his meddling 
with my wife, that’s more than I can stand.” 

“But he’s very religious, too, is he not ?” Bill quer¬ 
ied. “He’s undertaken to repair the church at his own 
expense. Why, the Parson is delighted, an’ thinks 
he’s a wonder.” 

“H’m!” Preston grunted in disgust. “The 
church! The church! I’m sick and tired of hearing 
about it. Why, it’s always interfering with a man’s 
freedom. And the Parson, too. He’s got the people 
in this parish right under his thumb, and what he says 
goes. He frightens them out of their senses by his 
talk about Hell. Bah! what do I care about such non¬ 
sense ? It’s superstitious rot, that’s what it is, and the 
sooner it’s stopped the better it will be for all con¬ 
cerned. The world would be a decent place to live 
in but for churches and whining hypocrites of 
parsons.” 

And thus the two men conversed, creatures of evil, 




When the Bell Rang 205 

to whom nobleness of character and purity of life 
made no appeal. Their own hearts being so bad, 
they could see no good in others, and all true motives 
were blackened by their low imaginations. Such men 
would do away with the Church and religion entirely, 
and would prefer the reign of vice and licentiousness. 
And yet betwen these two men there was a gulf. Bill 
Tooke was completely of the earth, earthy, so evil 
deeds and evil talk were as meat and drink to him. 
Ned Preston, on the other hand, was fighting a ter¬ 
rible battle against his conscience. It was goading 
him, allowing him no rest, and so rebellious was his 
spirit that he lashed himself into fury in his mad ef¬ 
forts to escape. He defied his Creator, and when 
alone at night he would sometimes shake his clenched 
fist at the silent heavens. Religion, too, he believed 
was his mortal enemy, and when he heard people 
lauding Nathan Strong for his voluntary work upon 
the church, his anger was intense. Then when the 
serpent in the form of Bill Tooke breathed into his 
ears the lie about Helen, his heart overflowed with 
rage. Had he stopped to reason he would have remem¬ 
bered that Bill was an inveterate liar, and that Helen 
was pure and free from all deceit. But he was a man 
far from normal now, half-crazed by that inward 
voice which would not be stilled, no matter how hard 
he struggled against it. 

Preston was in this mood as he parted from his 
companion that evening, and made his way toward his 
own home. He longed to meet Helen, and declare 
unto her what he had just heard. But he shrank from 
such an encounter, knowing full well that he could 
not endure the expression that would appear upon her 
face and the look of reproach in her eyes. He knew 


206 The Master Revenge 

that she would say little in self-defense. If she would 
only scold, or storm at him, it would give him a 
chance to relieve his feelings. But to see her standing 
before him in the dignity of her simplicity and purity 
would be more than he could endure. Only when 
he had been drinking heavily did he have the false 
courage to face her, and give vent to his maudlin 
thoughts. 

He stopped ere he had gone far, and sat for a 
while by the side of the road. The twilight faded, 
and darkness enshrouded the land. Several autos 
sped by, and one farm waggon rumbled past, but he 
paid no attention to these, so absorbed was he with 
his own misery. Nature’s sweet peace and rest had no 
effect upon his heart and mind. When agitated con¬ 
science with its flaming sword is at war with a legion 
of demons within a man, then terrible is the conflict, 
and the outcome uncertain. But this night the powers 
of darkness had the mastery of Ned Preston, and 
crushed down the voice of the true monitor within. 
He gave himself up to their wild urgings, and fol¬ 
lowed their mad promptings. 

Rising at length to his feet, he walked back over the 
road he had recently travelled. At first he moved 
slowly, but in a few minutes he was hurrying on his 
way, gliding like a spectre through the night. As he 
came near the house of his enemy, his rapid pace 
slackened, and he advanced more cautiously. A light 
shining from one of the windows attracted his atten¬ 
tion, and toward this he stealthily crept. He stooped 
when a few feet away, and peered in upon Na¬ 
than sitting near his table, apparently lost in thought. 
Preston’s hand clenched hard, and a gurgle of rage 
welled up in his throat as he watched his adversary. 


When the Bell Rang 207 

He envied him his quietness and peace of mind. He 
longed to turn the demons that were tormenting his 
own soul into Nathan’s, but he realized that such a 
thing was impossible. Each man was reaping what 
he had sown; one the whirlwind, the other the joy 
of a good conscience. 

When Preston at last stepped away from the win¬ 
dow, he was more spiteful than ever. Whatever 
slight aversion he had felt for the deed he was con¬ 
templating now vanished entirely. In its stead came 
the wild and the ungovernable desire to carry out his 
design as speedily and ruthlessly as possible. 

His steps led him toward the church, lying silently 
and unseen in the valley beyond. He sped through a 
grove of trees, and passed the grave yard, where the 
white stones stood out faintly against the darkness 
of night. No thought of the peaceful dead who rested 
there entered the mind of the infuriated man. No 
vision of toil-worn men and women who had carved 
for themselves homes in the wilderness, and who were 
buried here, came to him. Neither did the church, 
which he presently reached, affect him in the slightest 
degree with the spirit of reverence and respect. As 
he pushed open the always-unlocked door, entered, 
and groped his way up the middle aisle, no voice 
whispered to him words of warning. He never once 
thought of the noble and earnest ones who had erected 
that building almost seventy-five years before, nor of 
the sacrifices they had made to accomplish the task. 
He could not see the saintly men of God who had 
ministered there. He caught no glimpse of fond 
parents bringing their little ones for baptism, or of 
young couples standing at the altar-rail, pledging 
their troth to one another in holy matrimony. Not for 


208 The Master Revenge 

his mental vision were the slow processions which 
had wended their way to that church to perform the 
last sad rites over loved ones. How could such a man 
understand what that sacred edifice meant to the people 
of the parish? It was closely and deeply interwoven 
into their very lives. It was their spiritual home, 
and they looked upon it with more than ordinary rev¬ 
erence. It was a precious heritage, handed down to 
them to guard and maintain. Its sweet-toned bell 
summoned them to worship, and its finger-like spire 
pointed them to higher things. 

Well would it have been for Ned Preston had he 
paused for a few minutes to consider all this. Un¬ 
fortunately, he was a man now beyond the power 
of reasonable thought. To him that building was 
nothing more than were the precious treasures of 
ancient Rome to the marauding Goths and Vandals. 
It was merely an object to be destroyed to satisfy the 
deep-seated spirit of revenge and hatred. 

Having reached the chancel steps, Preston paused. 
He then reached out and laid his right hand upon the 
large Prayer Book, lying upon the reading-desk. This 
he quickly opened, and tore out several of the pages. 
These he crushed in his hands, and then jerking forth 
a match from his vest pocket, he struck it, and applied 
it to the inflammable material. As the blaze started 
up, he stepped forward, flung the burning mass upon 
the altar, and watched with glee as the flames swiftly 
caught upon the light fabric on the wall. The words, 
“Holy, Holy, Holy/’ on the front of the re-table 
stood out with startling splendor, as if in silent rebuke 
to the man who had thus dared to profane the sacred 
place. But upon the violator they made not the least 
impression. He watched until sure that his deed was 


209 


When the Bell Rang 

successful, and he then lifted his right hand and gave 
expression to a terrible curse. 

"I defy the God of heaven in whose House I stand,” 
he cried. I defy Him to punish me for this deed. 
Let all such places of superstition and hypocrisy come 
to a like end.” 

He ceased, turned and stepped down to the organ. 

“Here they stood together, my wife and my en- 
emy, he continued. ‘Never more will they come here 
to make love and deceive me. I curse them both, 
and may it happen to them as to this building.” 

Down the aisle he strode, with the roar of rushing 
flames sounding in his ears, and the smoke of burn¬ 
ing wood and cloth filling his nostrils. He had other 
work to do before leaving the building; so laying 
his hands upon the bell rope, he pulled it with all his 
strength. Over and over went the bell in wild gyra¬ 
tions, as if startled by such an unfamiliar touch. It 
no longer sent forth its sweet, even-toned notes of 
peace and good-will. It was a mighty voice now, 
pealing out its clarion message of terror, and bidding 
all to arouse and save the building from destruction. 
Neither did it appeal in vain, for up and down the 
river, in all houses within hearing distance, men and 
women rushed to doors and windows with startled 
faces and fast-beating hearts. Never before had they 
been so peremptorily summoned. But when they saw 
their beloved church so brilliantly lighted, they under¬ 
stood the meaning, so seizing pails in their hands they 
hurried out into the night. 

The man responsible for all this excitement at 
length dropped the rope and stood for a few seconds 
watching the leaping flames. When he left the church, 
he did not go back by the way he had come, but 




210 The Master Revenge 

turned to the right and entered a grove of thick 
bushes beyond. There he stopped, and peered keenly 
forth, waiting for the arrival of the neighbors. He 
was sure that they would come, and he gloated over 
the thought of their excitement and dismay. 

“Now, let them send up their pious prayers,” he 

muttered. “If that d-building is as holy as people 

make out, it’s a wonder that it burns. By the way 
that fire's taking hold inside, 4t looks as if the place 
is saturated with the sulphur of Hell instead of the 
incense of Heaven. But, ah, here they come now! 
The fun’s just beginning.” 



CHAPTER 23 


Destruction 

N ATHAN had spent a wonderful evening in the 
quietness of his own house after his return from 
the shore. The vision of Helen was ever before him, 
and he lived over again his conversation with her in the 
church, and their walk to the river. Her troubled 
face and lustrous eyes he again beheld, and the sound 
of her voice lingered in his mind. Gradually he 
drifted back to other days, and all that Helen had 
meant to him then. How different life would have 
been but for the strange turn of the wheel of Fate. 
Whenever the thought of Preston came to him, he 
crushed it back with a great effort, determined not 
to think of him more than he could help. 

He was thus calmly musing when the wild ring¬ 
ing of the church bell brought him to his feet with a 
bound. Rushing to the door, he opened it and looked 
out. Through the trees he could see the brightly- 
illumined building, and at once surmised the meaning. 
The church was on fire! Hurrying into the kitchen, 
he seized an empty pail and, forgetting his hat, he 
dashed out of the house and sped down across the 
field. Often he stumbled in the darkness, but he knew 
his way, and when he at length passed forth from the 
grove of trees he came in full view of the church. 
The sound of the bell had ceased, and no one was 
visible. But the building was a blaze of light, as if 
211 


212 


The Master Revenge 

illuminated by a thousand electric globes, showing 
plainly that the fire was within. From neighboring 
houses he heard the sound of voices, telling him that 
others were astir and alive to the menace that was 
threatening their place of worship. 

As he drew near the church Nathan realized that 
all hope of saving the building was past. Although 
the flames had not yet burst forth, the fire was raging 
inside, and it would be utterly impossible to do any¬ 
thing with only buckets to carry water. As he stood 
staring upon the doomed structure, others arrived, men 
and women, some hatless, coatless, and even shoeless. 
Silently they huddled together, watching the wonderful 
sight, their hearts filled with a grief that was mingled 
with awe. 

It was not long before the cracking of glass was 
heard, and at once huge wreathes of flames darted 
forth from the windows, and in a short time the whole 
of the eastern portion of the building was at the mercy 
of the devouring monster. The wood work was as 
dry as tinder, thus forming excellent fuel for the 
greedy flames which rose higher and higher, sending 
up vast columns of smoke into the night. The roar of 
the fire steadily increased, until it became almost deaf¬ 
ening. And all the time more people arrived. Some 
walked around the church, and viewed it from every 
angle, but all were helpless to do anything. 

The fire by now had the church at its complete mercy, 
and the flames were leaping through the roof, and 
spreading rapidly to the western end. They began to 
curl up around the spire, drawn upwards by great 
draughts of air. Reaching out like huge clutching 
fingers, they encircled the cross just as the Parson ap¬ 
peared upon the scene. Nathan never forgot the ex- 


Destruction 


213 


pression upon the old man’s face as he walked quietly 
into their midst. He uttered no word, but stood watch¬ 
ing the destruction of the building in which he had 
ministered for so many years. Once he made a sudden 
movement as if to spring forward to rescue something 
in the church. But he stopped short and lifted his 
right hand to his forehead, as if dazed and puzzled by 
his complete helplessness. 

The heat was now so intense that all were forced 
to move farther back. Their attention was centered 
upon the spire. It was a glowing mass, but as the 
flames swirled aside for an instant, the cross appeared, 
erect and unharmed. A deep feeling of awe came into 
the hearts of the watchers. Then when two great 
fiery columns leaped suddenly out from the belfry, and 
swept high into the air, leaving the cross untouched, a 
cry of astonishment went up from the lips of all. And 
thus it remained while the fire raged below, as if 
nothing could harm that symbol of redemption. 

Fiercer and fiercer grew the fire until the entire build¬ 
ing was a seething mass. The roof fell in with a 
crash and, as it fell, extra-huge volumes of smoke and 
flames rolled skyward. And still the spire stood erect 
as ever, wrapped in its fiery mantle. The straining 
eyes of all watched it with intense interest. It seemed 
a supernatural thing standing there looking down upon 
the dire ruin below. But steadily the fire ate through 
the heavy timbers, and when at last the proud structure 
lurched, and then toppled earthward, the people rushed 
wildly back with loud cries of fear and dismay. And 
truly it was an awe-inspiring spectacle. As the spire 
hurtled through the air, it appeared like a huge flaming 
meteor dashing to the earth on a mission of destruction. 

No sooner had the mass fallen, than a strange, weird 


214 The Master Revenge 

noise, resembling a cry of despair, sounded forth from 
the bushes beyond. It came but once, and although 
all looked in that direction with white faces and fast¬ 
beating hearts, they did not hear it again. What was 
the meaning of that cry ? they asked one another. Had 
it anything to do with the burning of the church ? But 
no one could answer these questions, and although 
they turned to the Parson for some explanation, he 
was unable to enlighten them. 

“My dear people,” he said, “this is a sad night for 
us. Our beloved church is in ruins, and we have wit¬ 
nessed its destruction. The holy place in which you 
and your fathers and mothers worshipped is no more 
than a heap of burning embers. But God’s will be 
done, so we must not despair, but bear up bravely. It 
will mean a great sacrifice on our part to build another 
church. But we have the glorious example of the 
noble men and women of the past. As they built 
well and strong, so can we. Let us not be dismayed 
nor cast down. God will help us, and that right early.” 

The venerable man turned partly around to hide his 
emotion, and Nathan noticed that tears were in his 
eyes. He admired the man now more than ever, and 
he determined there and then to take a prominent part 
in the erection of another building. He, like the others, 
was greatly puzzled over the burning of the church. 
Who had rung the bell ? And what was the cause of 
that peculiar cry that had winged its way to them from 
the bushes ? He noticed that some of the people were 
now talking earnestly to one another about these very 
things, and he listened to what they were saying. 

“I was jist gittin’ ready fer bed,” Peter Martin an¬ 
nounced, “when the bell began to ring. I knew at once 
that something out of the ordinary was the matter. I 


Destruction 215 

tell ye, it seems to me that no earthly hands pulled that 
rope. It must have been an angel that did it.” 

Or the devil, Nathan replied. “I don’t believe an 
angel had anything to do with it.” 

What about that cry, then, that we heard from 
the bushes ?” Peter asked. 

“That I cannot explain, Mr. Martin, as it is all 
very mysterious. But the two may be closely related. 
Perhaps we shall find out ere long.” 

“You are quite right, Mr. Stone,” the Parson re¬ 
marked. “I feel quite sure that there is some ex¬ 
planation for the cause of the fire, and that the mystery 
will be solved. There is nothing that we can do now, 
so we might as well go home. Thank you, my good 
people,” he added, “for responding so promptly. Oh, 
if we had only been able to save our church!” 

Nathan hardly heard what he said, for his attention 
was centered upon Bill Tooke, who was standing a 
short distance away, talking earnestly with a number 
of men. He wondered why the latter glanced occa¬ 
sionally in his direction, as if Bill were talking about 
him. At length they walked away, and he saw no more 
of Bill that night. But he could not banish the scene 
from his mind, and he was curious to know what 
Tooke had been saying. 

Gradually the neighbors left and went back to their 
own houses. The Parson, too, departed. Nathan 
watched him as he walked slowly and wearily to his 
carriage some distance up the road. He felt sorry for 
the man, who had spent so many years in the parish 
in noble, self-sacrificing service. The burning of the 
church was a blow hard for him to endure, notwith¬ 
standing his strong faith. What a terrible thing it 
would be if the fire had been set on purpose! At 


216 


The Master Revenge 

once Bill Tooke came into his mind. The fellow was 
capable of almost any degree of villainy, he felt sure, 
but what reason would he have for destroying the 
House of God? What harm had it done him that he 
should turn his hand against it? 

The fire still burned fiercely, devouring the frame of 
the church, and sending up its clouds of smoke and 
flames into the air. A few remained with Nathan 
to keep watch lest the fire should spread across the 
field and into the bushes beyond. As Nathan stood 
gazing upon the scene of desolation before him, he 
thought of the pleasant time he had spent there with 
Helen but a few hours before. What sweet music 
had filled the building, a striking contrast to the roar¬ 
ing mass upon which he now looked! The abode of 
peace and rest was gone, and in its stead nothing but 
hot seething ruins. 

t He thought about this as he at length wended his 
way homeward, accompanied by the rest of the men. 
He went into his house, but he did not feel satisfied. 

1 He could not get Bill Tooke out of his mind, and 
gradually he began to associate him with the burning 
of the church. Perhaps the fellow had rung the bell, 
and then had uttered that cry among the bushes to 
startle the people and make them believe that the deed 
had been committed by spirits of evil. He tried to 
banish this uncharitable feeling from his mind, and 
went out upon the verandah. The moon had now 
risen, and was riding above the distant trees, and 
gleaming in a long, silver path across the water. Ob¬ 
jects became more distinct. The light of the fire could 
be seen through the trees, and the crackling could be 
distinctly heard. A strange desire urged him to go 
back to the scene of destruction. He had read at 


Destruction 217 

times about criminals returning to the places where 
they had committed evil deeds. Perhaps the guilty 
one might creep back this night to view the effect of 
his work, and if so, there would be a chance to capture 
the villain. 

Leaving the verandah, Nathan hurried once more 
across the field, and passed through the graveyard 
where the trees would hide him from view. From 
here he swerved to the left, and entered the grove 
of bushes from whence the weird sound had come. 
At the farther edge he stopped, sat down upon the 
ground, and watched the open space between him 
and the site of the church. Higher rose the moon 
and flooded the landscape with its bright beams. Not 
a movement did Nathan make as he crouched there, 
silently waiting to see what would happen. Neither 
did he have to wait long, for presently he saw a man 
emerge from among the bushes on the left and glide 
cautiously toward him. Nathan almost stopped 
breathing as he passed by but a few feet away, and 
instantly he recognized Ned Preston. So great was 
his surprise that it was with difficulty he controlled 
himself. Never for a minute had he connected Ned 
with the destruction of the church, and even now he 
could scarcely believe his senses. But there he was 
before him, moving toward the burning embers. Keep¬ 
ing well within the bushes, Nathan followed, using 
every precaution, lest a twig should snap beneath his 
feet and thus betray his presence. Just at the very 
line, where the grove ended, Preston paused and stared 
upon the ruins. For a few minutes he stood like a 
statue, and then threw up his hands and gave expres¬ 
sion to a groan of despair. He next sank upon his 
knees, and remained in this position for some time. 


218 


The Master Revenge 

Nathan could not understand the meaning of these 
strange actions. He had the feeling that Ned was 
demented, and did not realise where he was. Another 
groan came from the kneeling figure, and then he 
sprang to his feet and took a few steps forward. 

“I did it! I did it!” he wailed. “I destroyed Thy 
House, O Lord! I did not know You were there. 
I saw You on the cross when it fell, and You looked 
at me. Oh! oh!” 

For an instant the unhappy man buried his face in 
his hands. Lifting his head, he rushed forward, 
seized the charred cross and dragged it after him to 
a large tree. Here he placed it in an upright position, 
and then stepped back and silently looked upon it. 

Nathan was intensely moved by what he beheld. 
He knew now for a certainty that Ned Preston had 
set fire to the church. A feeling of anger surged up 
within him. This was but another of the many deeds 
of infamy the man had committed. But it would 
be his last. No longer must he be allowed to continue 
his work of destruction. “Now is your time,” a voice 
within him whispered. “Put the villain in the Peni¬ 
tentiary, his rightful place. You will be thus revenged 
for the wrong he has done to you. Do not delay any 
longer.” Strong, indeed, was this temptation, and 
Nathan was in the proper mood to act upon the sug¬ 
gestion. But again the vision of Helen rose before 
him, causing him to hesitate. For her sake he had 
spared Ned until now, and he must go on as he had 
begun. So great was his love for her, that he deter¬ 
mined once again to shield her, and conceal from her 
and others Ned’s sacrilege in destroying the House of 
God. But the man should be punished, and taught a 
severe lesson. 


Destruction 219 

“I did it! Lord, I did it!” Again came that wail¬ 
ing cry, startling in its abject despair. “Punish me 
no longer! It is more than I can endure!” 

As Nathan listened and watched, there suddenly 
flashed into his mind the meaning of all this. Ned 
was struggling against the Lord! His soul was being 
terribly tortured, and in the spirit of revenge he had 
burned the church. Ah, it was all clear now! His 
strange words about the cross and his vision of the 
Master thereon, were explained. Nathan trembled 
as he thought of this. Ned was receiving his punish¬ 
ment, and it was the Lord’s doing. As he dealt with 
Saul of Tarsus so long ago, so now, perhaps, he was 
dealing with Ned Preston. The idea was startling, 
and a feeling of awe swept through Nathan’s soul. 
As he watched the agony of the man out there before 
the cross, he realised that his punishment was more 
severe and effective than any that human minds could 
devise. Ned Preston was passing through a terrible 
ordeal, he was well aware. He was suffering for his 
evil deeds, and he could not escape. He had brought 
upon himself the misery he was now undergoing. 

For some time Preston remained before the cross, 
now silent and erect as a statue. At last he turned 
and gazed for a while upon the ruins of the church. 
Nathan longed to know what was passing through 
his mind. But as he watched and waited, the dis¬ 
tracted man suddenly turned, fled back to the shelter 
of the bushes, and disappeared from view. 

Nathan looked to see what had caused Ned’s hur¬ 
ried flight, and at once saw the form of Bill Tooke 
slinking among the trees near the edge of the grave¬ 
yard. 


CHAPTER 24 


Where Flows the Brook 
HE burning of the church caused great excite¬ 



ment throughout the entire parish, and during 


the morning numerous teams rattled along the road. 
People were anxious to see the ruins, and they came 
from far and near. Nathan found it impossible to 
sleep, although he was very tired. After he had eaten 
his breakfast, he picked up his fishing-rod, and ex¬ 
amined it. He then went outside and dug some bait. 
He decided to spend the day back in the hills, along 
the brook which flowed into the river a short distance 
from his house. 

There was a special reason why he wished to do 
this. He wanted to be alone that he might think 
over all that had taken place down by the church. 
He was in no mood to go there again this morning 
to listen to what people would have to say. There 
was no work calling for his attention, and out in the 
woods he could think more clearly. The silence of 
the hills always strengthened him, and the rippling 
brook was fascinating. 

Having prepared a simple lunch, he started on his 
way, and noon found him well inland, seated on the 
bank of the stream near a deep clear pool, quietly 
smoking. Several trout lay by his side, and also his 
fishing-rod. He was satisfied with his catch, for true 


Where Flows the Brook 221 

sportsman that he was, he took only enough fish for 
his immediate need. 

At length he laid aside his pipe and leaned back 
comfortably against the mossy bank. The water mur¬ 
mured on its way, making the sweetest of music in 
his ears. Birds twittered and chirped as they flitted 
from tree to tree, while an occasional squirrel scolded 
from some nearby branch. Nathan’s upturned face 
noted several large birds sailing overhead, and great 
fleecy clouds drifting across the vast expanse of blue. 
He thought of Preston and his agony of soul. Helen, 
too, came into his mind, and of her he meditated most 
of all. Again he pictured her as he had seen her last 
night at the church, seated at the organ. How he 
longed for a quiet abode in just such a spot as here, 
away from all distractions of the world and with 
Helen by his side. He knew that they would be 
happy together, for he was sure that she loved him, 
even, perhaps, as much as he loved her. 

And as he lay there, he drifted off into dreamland, 
and a beautiful vision appeared to him. He was really 
living in the woods, right by the brook. The house 
nestled on the hillside, in front of which was a garden, 
and standing in the midst of the flowers was Helen 
with such a happy expression upon her face, and the 
light of love in her eyes. She was gathering flowers, 
picking them with much care and pleasure. He could 
see her so clearly, and how young she seemed, and so 
graceful. 

Then the sound of children’s voices came to him, 
and he saw two little white-clad figures playing by 
the brook, and laughing as they threw sticks into the 
current. The voices sounded louder now, and then 
there came a cry of fear which aroused him. Startled, 


222 The Master Revenge 

he sat upright and looked around. At once he beheld 
two children but a short distance away, standing close 
to each other, and staring at him with fear depicted 
upon their faces. This expression changed when they 
recognized the man as the carpenter who had repaired 
the fence by their house. Nathan knew them, too, 
and his face brightened. 

“Did I frighten you?” he asked. 

“Yes, you did,” the boy replied. “We didn't see 
you till we were almost on top of you. Funny place 
to sleep, this, isn't it?” 

Before Nathan could again speak, he caught sight 
of Helen coming toward them, hurrying as fast as 
she could along the bank of the brook. But when she 
saw Nathan, her steps slackened, and the anxious ex¬ 
pression upon her face vanished. 

“Oh, I am so glad that nothing is the matter,” 
she began. “I heard the cry of fright, and imagined 
all sorts of things. But we didn’t expect to find any 
one in this lonely place.” 

“Neither did I,” Nathan replied, as he rose quickly 
to his feet and advanced to meet her. “This is a 
pleasure I wasn’t looking for.” 

“He was asleep, mother,” the boy explained. “He 
was lying just there,” and he pointed to the mossy 
bank which bore the impression of the man’s body. 

“I certainly was asleep, my little man,” Nathan 
laughed. “If you had been up all night as I was, you, 
too, would go to sleep at the first chance. It’s a very 
restful place under the shade of this big tree. Won’t 
you all sit down? You look tired,” he added, turning 
to Helen. 

“I am not so tired as I am hot,” the woman replied. 


Where Flows the Brook 223 

We came through the woods and there was not a 
breath of wind among the trees.” 

“Have you been here before?” Nathan asked. 

“Oh, yes. This is our favorite retreat. It is not 
far, straight over the hill, and there is a fine old lumber 
road we follow. The children like the brook, and 
so do I. This place is so restful.” 

Her face grew very serious and an anxious light 
appeared in her eyes. Nathan believed that he knew 
the meaning, although he made no comment. Instead, 
he picked up a piece of wood lying at his feet, and 
drawing forth his pocket-knife, began to whittle it 
into shape. 

“What are you making?” the boy asked. 

“Just you wait and see,” Nathan replied. “But 
let us all sit down and you can watch me.” 

In another minute they were seated upon the mossy 
bank, with the children close around him, their eyes 
fixed intently upon the piece of wood. The way he 
handled the knife fascinated them. But when they 
saw that it was a boat he was carving, they shouted 
with delight. 

“He’s making a boat, mother!” the boy cried. 

“He’s matin’ a boat, muvver!” the girl echoed. 
Helen smiled as she sat watching a few feet away. 
Nathan knew that her eyes were fixed upon them, and 
he wondered what was passing through her mind. 
As for himself, he was supremely happy. Helen was 
near, just where he longed for her to be, and his dream 
was wonderfully fulfilled. How surprised she would 
be if he told her about it. But that would be giving 
himself away, so he decided to remain silent. 

When at last the boat was carved to his satisfaction, 
he went to a birch tree nearby, stripped off a piece 


224 The Master Revenge 

of bark, and from this he shaped a tiny sail, which 
he fastened to a small mast. When all was finished, 
he placed the boat in the water. The children were 
greatly pleased, and sailed it up and down the edge 
of the pool. 

Side by side upon the bank the man and the woman 
sat watching the little ones. For a few minutes they 
did not speak, so taken up were they with their own 
thoughts. 

“Happy days of childhood,” Helen at length re¬ 
marked. “What a pity they must pass so quickly.” 

“But would we be happy to be always children?” 
Nathan asked. 

“I suppose not,” and the woman sighed. “But 
just think of the many worries and responsibilities 
children escape.” 

“Perhaps we older ones are stronger for them, 
though. Character is developed in the stress and 
strain of life, that is, if we hold to our high ideals.” 

“Then, you must be very strong, Nathan. It is 
a great mystery to me how you have come through 
your terrible trials with such a brave, true spirit. Why 
some men, if they had been treated as you have been, 
would be brutes or raging fiends. I cannot under¬ 
stand it.” 

“And so would I, Helen, but for a great light 
which has guided me, and has been my inspiration. 
Even, then, it has meant terrible battles in which I 
nearly lost. I have never been sure of myself. The 
old deceiver is still very powerful within me, and often 
drives me to the verge of despair. When he gets 
exceptionally busy I like to come to a place such as 
this. The quietness of the hills and the forest has a 


Where Flows the Brook 225 

calming and a restraining effect, and I am able to see 
things more clearly and in their true light.” 

“Why, that is the way I feel,” Helen replied. “I 
come here for the same reason. My home life, as 
you must know, is sadly wrecked, and if I stayed 
there all the time I am sure that I would go out" of 
my mind. Ned has had terrible moods lately, and 
there is no living with him. Oh! I do not know 
what will be the outcome of all this. Sometimes I 
wish-” 

She ceased abruptly, and sat very erect, her hands 
clenched tightly together, resting upon her lap. 
Nathan longed to know about that wish of hers, and 
hoped that she might explain. This she did not do, 
but remained silent, watching the children. 

“Is Ned at home now?” Nathan asked. 

“No. He came home very early this morning, and 
left right after breakfast in the car. He was in a 
sad condition, his eyes so blood-shot, and his face 
as white as death. He seemed to be very much afraid 
of something, although he would tell me nothing. 
W^en I asked him what was the matter, he glared at 
me like a wild beast, but made no reply. Oh, I don’t 
know what to do! I am completely distracted.” 

So overcome was she, that she bowed her head, and 
tears streamed down her cheeks. Her body shook 
with her suppressed sobs. Nathan was at a loss for 
suitable words, so he rose to his feet, and went over 
to where the children were playing. He tried to 
interest himself in what they were doing, but he could 
not keep his mind from that grief-stricken woman 
upon the bank. He knew it was better that she should 
be alone for a while until her grief had spent itself. 
He longed to go to her, to comfort her, but he felt 



226 The Master Revenge 

that he could not trust himself. He might give way 
to words which he would regret. He talked to the 
children, and showed them how to sail the boat, but 
anger against Ned Preston was strong in his heart. 
He wanted to go to the villain, and deal with him 
as he deserved. But he could not forget Ned’s agony 
before the cross, and the apparent change that was 
coming over the man. He could not tell Helen any¬ 
thing about this, for he wished to keep from her the 
knowledge that would only increase her trouble. If 
he told her that her husband had set fire to the church, 
what a terrible additional blow it would be to her. 
She had enough to bear now without that. 

In a few minutes Helen joined them. She was 
smiling, although tears still gleamed in her eyes. 
Nathan’s heart quickened as she came and stood by, 
his side. He admired her for assuming a bright ap¬ 
pearance and a courage she did not feel. The chil¬ 
dren, tired of their play, clamored for something to 
eat. 

“I want a cookie, mother,” the boy demanded. 

“I want a tookie, muvver,” the girl repeated. “Fse 
hungie.” 

“Indeed you must be, dears,” the mother declared, 
as she turned to the bank where the lunch basket was 
lying. “You will join us, will you not?” she asked 
turning to Nathan. “There is plenty for all.” 

“I shall be pleased to do so,” Nathan replied. “But 
may I share with you my humble lunch? There is 
a spring a short distance away where the water is as 
cold as ice.” 

In a short time they were all seated upon the ground 
in picnic style, the children doing most of the talking. 
Helen and Nathan were content to remain silent and 


Where Flows the Brook 227 

listen to the chatter of the little ones. But when the 
meal was finished, and the children were again play¬ 
ing happily by the water, the man and the woman 
remained seated. 

“It has been a long time since I enjoyed such a 
meal as this/’ Nathan remarked. “When I left home 
this morning, I never expected to meet you here. 
This has really been my dinner, for it came next to 
breakfast with me. I am all mixed up to-day, anyway, 
owing to being up all night. You heard about the 
burning of the church, I suppose.” 

“Oh, yes. The Parson told me all about it this 
morning. The poor old man is almost heart-broken. 

I feel so sorry for him. It will be hard to build a 
new church. There was some insurance, so he told 
me, but it will not go very far. How I wish that I 
could afford to erect a new building. What a joy it 
would be to see God’s House restored.” 

As Helen uttered these words, a thought flashed 
into Nathan’s mind which gave him a great thrill. 
It was just the inspiration he needed, and it was the 
woman he loved who had given it. He had the means, 
or he would have them, so why should he not do it? 
Would it not be well to spend some of Halton’s money 
in such a good cause? It would be his to use, and 
he had little need for it himself. He preferred to 
work with his own hands for his living, and not lead 
a life of luxury and ease. It was a great idea, and 
as his eyes rested upon the children, his mind was 
busy with his plans. 

“I can never forget the old church.” It was Helen 
again speaking, and her voice aroused Nathan from 
his reverie. “It was there that I found such rest 
and comfort.” 


228 The Master Revenge 

“Neither shall I ever forget last night when we 
were there together,” Nathan replied. ‘‘It brought 
back memories of the past when we were so happy 
and free from all cares.” 

“How little we then knew, Nathan, what lay ahead 
of us. And we do not know now. I tremble when 
I think of what the morrow may bring forth. This 
has been a blessed afternoon to me, but it is getting 
late, so I must take the children home. Thank you 
very much for your pleasant company and inspiring 
words.” 

“I wish that we could have many such afternoons,” 
Nathan fervently declared. “Remember, Helen, if 
I can help you in any way, let me know. Although 
legally you belong to another, and that only through 
base deception, yet I always consider you as mine, 
and that we were always meant for each other. But, 
please forgive me for speaking so plainly.” 

He rose abruptly to his feet, his whole body 
trembling. Helen rose also, and her face was un¬ 
usually pale. Side by side they walked down along 
the brook, the children running on ahead, talking and 
laughing with glee. When they at length reached the 
old lumber road, Helen held out her hand. 

“We must part here,” she said, “you to go your 
way, and I mine. But I feel stronger for your sym¬ 
pathy, and the brave way you have faced all your 
trials. Good-by.” 

Nathan grasped her hand, raised it for an instant 
to his lips. He then turned and hurried on his way 
without once looking back. 


CHAPTER 25 


For the Sake of a Child 

C OMING at length to a large maple tree over¬ 
hanging the left side of the brook, Nathan 
stopped and sat down upon the bank to rest. His 
brain was in a tumult, for he felt that he had over¬ 
stepped the mark in what he had said to Helen. What 
must she think of his indiscreet words? Although 
she might forgive him, he could not forgive himself. 
Hut how could he help being carried away by his 
overwhelming love? The only safe course was to 
keep away from her. And yet, he had not sought 
her that afternoon. They had come together by ac¬ 
cident. But was it an accident? Was Fate over¬ 
ruling their destiny? He recalled their meeting at the 
church. He had merely gone there after his plane 
and he had met Helen. And so upon this simple 
fishing trip he had come across her again. Then he 
suddenly remembered a sermon he had heard the Par¬ 
son preach. It was about Saul who went forth to 
hnd his father’s asses, and he found a Kingdom in¬ 
stead. The clergyman had enlarged upon this, show¬ 
ing that as we go about our common daily tasks the 
Lord is really leading us to greater things; that we 
fi? m Hls hands, and He is directing all our wavs 
Was He doing the same now? Nathan wondered. 
Was there a definite purpose in the way he and Helen 

229 


230 The Master Revenge 

had several times unexpectedly met? It seemed so, 
and the idea gave him considerable satisfaction. 

As he thus sat and mused, he became gradually 
aware of the beauty and the glory surrounding him. 
Not a breath of wind stirred the air, and the big 
maple at his side was clearly reflected in the deep 
placid pool at his feet. He looked up at the tree 
and noted its strength and grandeur. Although some 
of its roots had been torn and twisted by raging tor¬ 
rents when the brook flowed full to the river, yet it 
stood firm and unyielding. It was good to watch it, and 
a great inspiration came into his heart. The roots 
of his own life had been terribly bruised and torn, 
but he had tried to remain true and hold himself erect 
in the face of all. And he would do so still. Al¬ 
though enemies had assailed him, and he had lost the 
woman he loved, yet he would not give way, but would 
remain faithful to the best that was in him. He had 
been with Helen that afternoon, he had talked with 
her, and he believed that she really cared for him. 
This thought gave him much comfort, and he ex¬ 
perienced a thrill of pleasure as he pictured her sitting 
or standing by his side. She, too, was somewhat like 
the maple, firm, noble, and graceful, notwithstanding 
all she had endured. It was well that Nathan stopped 
near that old tree for such a quiet meditation. He 
little knew that in a short time he would need every 
particle of strength and inspiration he there received. 

When he at last reached the highway, he walked 
slowly along, his fishing-rod in one hand and his 
string of trout in the other. As he came in sight 
of his house, he saw his neighbor, Peter Martin, 
standing by the back door. He wondered what the 


For the Sake of a Child 231 

man was doing there, as it was unusual for him to 
visit his place at this time of the day. 

“Where in the world have ye been?” Peter abruptly 
demanded as Nathan approached. ‘Tve spent the 
hull afternoon tryin’ to git me eyes on ye.” 

“ Y our tongue, you mean,” Nathan laughingly 
replied, as he laid aside his rod and fish. “What’s 
the matter, anyway, Mr. Martin ? You look as solemn 
as a funeral.” 

“An’ I feel solemn, Mr. Stone. “I’ve got somethin’ 
important to tell ye, an’ I want to git over with it as 
soon as I kin.” 

‘‘WeN, then, suppose we sit upon the verandah, 

«‘a tired after m y tram P> and hot, too.” 

An’ ye’ll be hotter still when I tell ye what’s goin’ 
on in this parish,” Peter retorted, as he limped after 
Nathan. “Dear me!” he groaned, sinking wearily 
down upon a chair, “I don’t know what the world’s 
comm’ to, anyway. Things ain’t what they used to 
be around here.” 

Out with it, Mr. Martin,” Nathan ordered, feeling 
certain now that something out of the ordinary had 
taken place. “Nobody killed, I hope?” 

“Not yit, though some deserve to be. It’s about 
you, an’ as ye’ve been so very kind to me, I consider 
it my duty to stand by ye through thick an’ thin. I’m 
in hot water already, but I’ll stand it a great deal 
hotter before I desert me best friend.” 

“About me!” Nathan exclaimed. “Why, where do 
I come in? Hurry up and tell me.” 

“Yes, it’s about you, Mr. Stone. There is a report 
goin’ the rounds that you burned the church. Jist 
think of that!” 

Instead of expressing surprise or anger, Nathan 


232 


The Master Revenge 

laughed outright. Peter did not expect this, so looked 
at his companion in astonishment. 

“There’s nuthin’ to laugh at Mr. Stone,” he re¬ 
minded. “It’s a very serious charge.” 

“I know it is, Mr. Martin, and so serious that it 
oversteps the mark, and becomes ridiculous. No sane 
person would believe such a thing for a minute. Why, 
wasn’t I doing my best to repair the church? What 
reason would I have for destroying it?” 

“Quite true, an’ that’s what I’ve been explainin’, 
sir. But it makes no difference what I say, fer all 
believe it.” 

“They do! And after what I have done! 

“Oh, that doesn’t count one bit. They have never 
r fergotten that you were in the Penitentiary, an’ if ye 
did wrong years ago, ye’ll do the same now. It’s in 
yer nature, so they say, an’ it’s bound to come out 
sooner or later.” 

Nathan was becoming rather nettled now. It was 
more serious than he had at first thought. He could 
hardly believe that his past record would be thus 
brought up against him in connection with the burning 
of the church. But there must be some reason for 
all this. 

“Who started such a rumor?” he asked. “Did any¬ 
one see me?” 

“Bill Tooke says he did, an’ that he rang the bell 
when you ran away.” 

Nathan rose suddenly to his feet, every muscle in 
his body quivering with excitement. He towered 
above his neighbor, his hands clenched and his eyes 
blazing. 

“Are you sure Bill Tooke told that?” he demanded. 

“Sure, fer I heard him with me own ears. I called 


For the Sake of a Child 233 

him a liar, an’ he was goin’ to knock me down when 
several men interfered an’ stopped him. But he is 
a liar, an’ I know it.” 

-- ls : Mr * Martin - I never burned that church. 
Why,, it is the last thing in the world I would think 
of doing.” 

I believe ye, sir, I believe ye from the bottom of 
me heart. But that wasn’t all of Bill’s lies. He said 
that he saw you an’ Mrs. Preston alone in the church 
that very evenin’.” 

“He did!” 

“Yes, that’s what he said, an’ that you had yer arm 
around her while she was settin’ at the organ, an’ that 
ye kissed her.” 

With a groan Nathan sank back into his chair his 
face very white. He tried to be calm, to think clearly 
that he might know what to do. But the overwhelm¬ 
ing spirit of revenge pounded at his heart. The blood 
coursed madly through his body, and the veins on his 
forehead stood out like whip cords. He had been 
patient for so long. He had tried to do what was 
right, and he had been as merciful as possible to those 
who had injured him. But this last was more than 
he could endure. He had lived a quiet life among 
the people of the parish, and had done all in his power 
to help them. But now they were willing to believe 
such a rogue and a liar as Bill Tooke. What had it 
all amounted to, anyway? he asked himself. He would 
change his manner of living, and if people would not 
respect him, he would make them fear him. If they 
believed him to be a miserable criminal, capable of even 
burning the House of God, he would let them be satis¬ 
fied. But first of all he would deal with Bill Tooke. 


234 The Master Revenge 

“Do all the people believe these lies about me?” he 
asked. 

“Most of ’em do, so fer as I know. Word has 
gone all over the parish, so I understand, an’ some 
heard of it last night at the fire. Bill told ’em then. 
Of course, the Parson won’t believe sich nonsense, 
neither will the Fletchers, nor Widder Watters. An’ 
mebbe there are others, fer all I know.” 

“Most likely there are,” Nathan replied, as Helen 
came into his mind. The thought of her and that 
big maple tree had a restraining effect. He recalled 
his quiet meditation that afternoon, and his determina¬ 
tion to be strong and noble. How little he knew then 
of the test that was just ahead. But he was not going 
to allow his name, and the name of the one he loved, 
to be defamed and made a byword throughout the 
parish. For Helen’s sake he would face Tooke, the 
liar, and compel him to deny the charges he had made. 

He rose to his feet, and laid his right hand upon 
Peter’s shoulder. 

“I am going to see Bill at once,” he announced. 
“This slander must be stopped, and there is only one 
way it can be done.” 

“Don’t do anythin’ rash, sir,” Peter pleaded. “Bill 
is a hard man, an’ he never fergives an injury.” 

“I am not worrying about that, Mr. Martin, as I 
am well able to take care of myself.” 

Together they walked up the road, and when they 
reached Peter’s gate, Nathan stopped. 

“I wish to thank you, Mr. Martin, for your interest 
on my behalf,” he said. “You have done me a good 
service to-day.” 

“I hope so, Mr. Stone, I really hope so. I did hate 


For the Sake of a Child 235 

to tell ye, though. But I felt ye should know jist 
what is goin’ on.” 

It did not take Nathan long to come in sight of 
Tooke s house, and to his surprise he saw no children 
about the place. But when a few yards away, he 
heard angry voices within the building. Stepping 
quickly to the door, which was open, he looked in, and 
there he saw a stranger standing in the middle of the 
kitchen surrounded by the entire Tooke family. 
Nathan’s presence was at once noticed, and Bill’s face 
grew blacker than ever. 

“What d’ye want here?” he roared. “Are ye 
cornin’ to make more trouble?” 

“That was my intention,” Nathan replied. “But 
it seems to me you’ve got all the trouble you can 
attend to at present. What’s the matter, anyway?” 

“That man’s come to take my only cow,” Bill ex¬ 
plained. “But he won’t git it, h-if he will.” 

Pay what you owe, then,” the stranger replied. 

You bought that cow from Dan Perkins two years 
ago, and you haven’t paid him a cent. You’ll pay 
me now, or I’ll take your cow. I’m only doing my 
duty as a constable.” 

“I can’t pay, fer I ain’t got the money,” Bill declared. 
“An’ if ye take our cow, what’ll the baby do fer milk? 
It’ll die.” 

“I’m sorry, Bill, but I can’t help it. The cow must 
go, then.” 

A hubbub followed this statement; some of the chil¬ 
dren crying, while others screamed at the constable. 
For a few minutes it seemed as if they would attack 
him and do some bodily harm. He, too, realised the 
danger, and edged toward the door. 

Nathan in the meantime was looking at Mrs. Tooke 


236 


The Master Revenge 

in one corner of the room, who was holding the 
baby in her arms, trying to soothe its cries. She was 
a worn and tired-looking woman, slovenly dressed, and 
appeared to have lost all interest in life. The baby 
was a poor miserable little thing, half fed and 
scantily clothed. Of a sympathetic nature to the weak, 
Nathan’s heart went out to this tiny creature. What 
would become of it should the cow be taken? No 
matter how much Bill deserved to be punished, a help¬ 
less child should not be allowed to suffer. He stepped 
over to where the woman was standing. 

“Do you depend upon the milk from your cow for 
the baby?” he asked. 

“It’s all he gets,” was the reply. “My own breasts 
have been dry fer months.” 

“But won’t you be able to get some milk from the 
neighbors ?” 

“Neighbors! We ain’t got none. Bill settled that 
long ago.” 

Nathan knew only too well the truth of this. It 
was Bill’s fault, without any doubt, that they had no 
neighbors who would assist in time of need. The 
thought angered him, and yet he could not allow this 
infant to suffer for lack of food. He turned to the 
constable. 

“How much is the bill?” he inquired. 

“Twenty dollars. It’s more than the cow’s worth, 
though she’ll be better than nothing.” 

“Will you be satisfied if I settle the account?” 
“You!” 

“That’s what I said. I happen to have some money 
with me, so if you agree, let us get through with the 
business at once. Where is the bill?” 

The constable looked at Nathan as if he had not 


For the Sake of a Child 237 

heard aright. Then his right hand moved slowly to 
his pocket and brought forth a slip of paper. 

Here it is. But, say, do you realise what you are 
about to do? You’ll never get a cent of your money 
back.” 

That s my own outlook. Here is the money, so 
please receipt that bill.” 

While the constable was laboriously signing his 
name with a blunt stub of a lead pencil, Nathan 
counted the bills and held them in his hand until the 
writing was finished. He then gave the constable 
the twenty dollars for which he received the receipt 
in return. This he at once passed over to Tooke. 

“You had better hold on to that,” he advised. ‘‘The 
account is settled, so you need not worry any more 
about it.” 

Bill took the piece of paper and looked at it. His 
face was still sullen, and his eyes defiant. No word 
of thanks did he offer, but shoving the paper into a 
pocket, he went to the door and stepped out. The 
ingratitude of the man annoyed Nathan, and he was 
upon the point of following and settling the account 
he had against him. He changed his mind, however, 
and as he again glanced at Mrs. Tooke, he noticed the 
expression of relief upon her face. 

1 Oh, thank you, sir,” she said. “I cannot tell you 
how grateful I am for what you have done for us. 
Don’t mind Bill; he’s got no heart.” 

Nathan was touched by the woman’s words, so 
thrusting his hand into his pocket, he brought forth 
a five dollar bill and gave it to her. 

“Use this for the baby, Mrs. Tooke, and don’t let 
your husband get hold of it.” 

“He’ll never see it,” the woman replied, as her thin, 


238 


The Master Revenge 

toil-worn fingers grasped the money. “It's the most 
I’ve had fer years. God bless ye, sir! I’m sure yer 
not as bad as Bill tries to make out. I’ll not believe 
any of his yarns about ye after this. I told Bill once 
that ye couldn’t be so bad after what ye done to the 
Fletchers. But he swore at me an’ hit me; that’s 
what he done, an’ me his own wife, too.” 

Just then the baby set up a howl, and as the mother’s 
attention was thus diverted, Nathan took advantage of 
the opportunity and left the house. 


CHAPTER 26 


The Vision 

S TRANGE feelings possessed Nathan’s soul as he 
walked slowly down the road. He had started 
forth that evening with the express intention of teach¬ 
ing Bill Tooke a severe lesson. But instead, he had 
done just the opposite, and had befriended him by 
saving his cow. He had done nothing to compel the 
villain to refute the serious lies he had told, so people 
would continue to believe the stories about the burn¬ 
ing of the church, and his action toward the wife of 
Ned Preston. Nathan called himself a fool for being 
turned from his purpose through mere sentiment. 
And yet, his heart was filled with a wonderful peace 
at what he had done. 

The thought was with him all through the evening 
and far on into the night. The picture of that help¬ 
less babe and the poor bedraggled mother was ever 
before him. He had helped them, at any rate, and 
that was a satisfaction. Let Bill do what he might 
to defame him, he could not remove the glow which 
thrilled his soul. To be of some comfort to ones in 
trouble, especially women and children, was a reward 
in itself. He felt ashamed of his anger that evening, 
and resolved never again to lose control of himself! 
He would be like that tree by the brook, strong and 
upright, no matter what might happen. He repudi¬ 
ated his resolve to act the villain people believed him 

239 


240 The Master Revenge 

to be, and he determined to prove to them that he 
was a man with a true heart, even though he was a 
jail-bird. 

With this desire, Nathan longed to be up and doing. 
He could not account for it, but there came suddenly 
into his mind the words Helen had uttered that after¬ 
noon in connection with the re-building of the church. 
He rose from his chair and paced rapidly up and down 
the room. This was something he could do, and to 
what better purpose could he devote Halton’s money? 
It would please Helen, he well knew, and it would 
show the people of the parish that he was not as bad 
as they had been led to believe. This idea was inspir¬ 
ing, and he walked the floor like a conqueror, un¬ 
heeding the time as it slipped silently by. 

It was late when he went to bed, but he could not 
sleep; his brain was too active for that. He planned 
what he should do, and the kind of church he would 
build. It must be much better than the old one, 
modern in design, graceful in form, and of con¬ 
siderable architectural beauty within and without. It 
would be a lasting monument to him, and it would 
give him great favor in the eyes of all. What a joy 
it would be to Helen to behold such a beautiful build¬ 
ing, and to know that he had done it for her sake. 

And as he lay there, with the picture of the new 
church in his mind and what it would mean to him, 
a strange thing happened. It seemed as if a mys¬ 
terious presence pervaded the room, and that a won¬ 
derful message was being communicated to him with¬ 
out the sound of any voice. It was startling and 
filled him with awe. And stranger still, he saw words 
most distinctly, and gradually below them there ap¬ 
peared the image of a church, beautiful in design 


The Vision 241 

and workmanship. “In My Name only. For My 
Glory only. Such was the message standing out in 
letters limmed with fire. It faded, disappeared, re¬ 
turned clearer than ever, and then vanished entirely. 

The perspiration was standing out in beads upon 
Nathan s forehead, and he was trembling violently. 
He arose, lighted his lamp, and gazed around the 
room. But nothing out of the ordinary could he see. 

“I must have been dreaming/’ he muttered. “But, 
no, I am certain that I was wide awake. A dream 
never affected me like that. What was the meaning 
of it all, I wonder? In My Name only. For My 
Glory only. What a strange message. And the 
church underneath. What a wonderful building it 
was.” 

He paused, and his heart beat faster than ever. 
He grasped the bed-post for support. 

“I know now!” he cried. “I understand the mean¬ 
ing! It was a message of reproof from the Lord 
Himself. I was planning to build the church for my 
own satisfaction and for my own glory. But I was 
wrong. I see it now! I see it now! Thank God, 
my eyes are open at last!” 

He dressed, went out of doors, and walked up and 
down the drive-way at the back of the house. The 
fresh balmy air cooled his hot forehead. But it did 
not lessen the burning of the fire in his heart. The 
stillness of the night, and the great starry vault over¬ 
head impressed him deeply. The presence he had 
felt in the room seemed to be still surrounding him. 
He understood the meaning of the vision now, and 
it had been vouchsafed for his guidance. He had 
been working along wrong lines in the past, but hence¬ 
forth it would be in His Name and for His Glory 


242 


The Master Revenge 

alone. Only in that spirit would he build the church. 

As he thought of this in his rapid pacing, the 
principle gradually expanded. There was more than 
the church to be considered. He must include his 
dealing with others, especially Ned Preston and Bill 
Tooke. He had spared them both, the former for 
Helen's sake chiefly, and the latter because of a little 
child. But his motive should have been higher and 
nobler than that. “In My Name only. For 
My Glory only.” Again the words came to him, and 
there in the darkness he bowed his head, and breathed 
a prayer for help to follow the message he had re¬ 
ceived. And with the prayer came a new strength 
and inspiration such as he had never known before. 
When he went back again into the house he felt like 
a man from which a heavy burden had been suddenly 
removed, and in its stead was a wonderful sustaining 
power. 

Nathan went to the city on the early morning boat. 
He had much to do, and little time in which to do it. 
He visited Mr. Black, and outlined his plans as briefly 
and concisely as possible. The lawyer was greatly 
interested, and told him that there would be no trouble 
about the money, even though the Halton estate would 
not be settled until next year. 

“You are a remarkable man, Mr. Strong,” he said, 
“and I admire you for your noble resolve. How 
people will honor you for doing such a work.” 

“I am not going to do it for my own glory, Mr. 
Black. I see things in a different light now. It is 
for the glory and honor of Another I am going to 
build that church. I have been on the wrong track 
too long. When I came out of the Penitentiary the 
spirit of revenge was strong within me. I intended 


The Vision 243 

to find the guilty ones and have them punished. But 
when at last I found the real criminal, I changed 
my mind, took a different course and forced him to 
make some restitution. I did it merely because it 
would benefit the ones he had injured, protect his wife 
and children, and also a punishment to himself.” 

‘That was far greater revenge, Mr. Strong, and 
nobler in every way. It was better than brute 
revenge.” 

“ Yes , I suppose so. But even then I did not go 
far enough, as it was not the true revenge as set 
forth by the Master Himself.” 

“And what is that?” 

“Forgiveness. That is the Master Revenge, and 
I pray God that I may be able to forgive Ned Preston 
for what he has done to me. Henceforth that shall 
be my ruling spirit in all I undertake and do.” 

Nathan spoke these words very quietly, but with 
great emphasis. The lawyer looked into his client's 
eyes and then sighed. 

“I believe you mean what you say, Mr. Strong, 
and I wish that I could feel the same as you do. If 
we could only put into practice such a principle as 
that, what a difference it would make to the world. 
But on the other hand, think how many rogues there 
are who would take a mean advantage of us. A 
noted man once said, ‘Let me remember, when I find 
myself inclined to pity a criminal, that there is like¬ 
wise a pity due to the country.' Yes, the Master 
Revenge might work out satisfactorily in an ideal 
Christian age, but I have serious doubts about apply¬ 
ing it now.” 

“That is just the trouble, Mr. Black. It has not 
been fully tried, as people are afraid to put it into 


244 The Master Revenge 

effect. But I have the courage of my conviction, and 
am going to test it, anyway. So far, I have met 
with no success, but I have not gone far enough.” 

When Nathan left the lawyer he went at once to a 
prominent architect and spent over an hour with him, 
stating just what he needed in the way of church 
plans. He then visited the Stairs, and found that 
they were getting along very well. 

“Henry has a good job now,” Mrs. Stairs informed 
him,” and we are quite happy. But we can never 
thank you enough for what you have done for us. 
The Lord will surely reward you.” 

“You need not thank me, Mrs. Stairs,” Nathan 
replied. “I only did what I believed was right. I 
guess there was Another Who had a hand in this. 
We can truly thank Him for the outcome of it all.” 

“We do, sir, every day of our lives. It was the 
Lord alone Who cured our child when the doctors 
had given up all hope.” 

After a busy day in the city, Nathan was glad to 
turn his face once more homeward. He had many 
things to think about, so he needed the quietness of 
his own house. As he left the steamer and stepped 
upon the wharf, several neighbors spoke to him in an 
unusually friendly manner. This was different from 
their silent attitude toward him that morning, and 
he wondered what had caused the change. As he 
walked up to the main road, he saw several men 
reading a paper tacked to the store door. He knew 
that notices of sales and entertainments were always 
placed there, and in such things he was not interested. 
This was merely another, so he thought; the people’s 
local bulletin,,, informing them what was about to 
take place in the parish. 


The Vision 


245 


When he reached home, he prepared and ate his 
supper. He next went out upon the verandah and 
smoked for some time. His mind was busy with his 
plans, and he was eager to begin work as soon as 
possible. But he had to see the Parson first, and ob¬ 
tain his permission to go ahead with the building. 
He was quite sure that the clergyman would be much 
pleased, and would give a ready consent. He longed, 
also, to see Helen that he might talk it all over with 
her, and receive any suggestions she might have to 
offer. He was happier this evening than he had been 
for a long time, and he felt like shouting aloud with 

joy- 

As a relief to his feelings, he went into his work¬ 
shop, and busied himself with a rustic chair which 
was partly completed. He had not spent much time 
here of late, so it was good to be back again, and he 
hummed a song as he shaped the various pieces of 
wood and fitted them into their proper places. In a 
few days he would be so busy upon the church that 
he would have no time for anything else. 

And as he worked, he heard approaching foot¬ 
steps, and the next minute Bill Tooke stood in the 
doorway. Nathan gave a start of surprise at seeing 
this unusual and unexpected caller. He merely bade 
him good-evening, and went on with his work. Bill 
entered, sat down upon a box, and watched him in¬ 
tently. 

“Busy, eh?” he at length queried. 

“Yes, Pm trying to do something to keep me out 
of mischief,” Nathan replied. 

“Nuthin’ like it, I guess,” and Bill gave a deep 
sigh. “Wish t’goodness I had the habit.” 

Nathan turned and looked keenly at his visitor. A 


246 


The Master Revenge 

change had evidently come over the man, judging 
by his face and the expression in his eyes. 

“Anything wrong?” he asked. 

“Why, what makes ye think there is?” 

“Oh, several things, but chiefly your coming to see 
me, of all men.” 

“No doubt ye do wonder at that. But, look here, 
I’ve done dirty by you, an’ I ain't afraid to tell ye so. 
But I’ve decided to do different after this.” 

“Had a change of heart, Bill? Been to some re¬ 
vival meeting?” Nathan queried. He was not alto¬ 
gether sure of this man, thinking he might be acting 
in this manner with some special design in view. 

“The only revival meetin’ I’ve attended was the 
one held last night at my house,” Bill explained. 
“You was the preacher, an’ what you done had more 
effect on me than all the gospel-slingers I've ever 
heard.” 

“Well, that's interesting. What did I do to make 
such a remarkable change?” 

“Ye saved me cow fer the baby’s sake, that’s what 
ye done. Now, I’ve been a reg’lar devil, in a way, 
an’ don’t deny it. But I’m fond of that kid; it has 
sich cute ways, an’ I guess I think more of it than of 
all the rest. Then, when the constable came to take 
the cow, an’ I thought how hard it would be on the 
baby to do without milk, there was murder in me 
heart. I saw red then more’n any time in me life, 
so if you hadn’t happened along jist when ye did, I 
might have killed that man there an’ then. It must have 
been the Lord that sent ye.” 

“It was the devil, I guess, from the way I was 
feeling,” Nathan replied. “I went to your house to 
have it out with you for the lies you have been telling 


The Vision 247 

about me. I intended to give you the biggest thrash¬ 
ing you ever got, and you deserve it, too.” 

I know it, I know it,” Bill hastily agreed. “I 
saw it in yer eyes when ye came into me house last 
night. But I didn’t care then fer you or anyone 

else. I was ready to fight the hull d-world fer the 

sake of the kid. But when ye acted as ye did, why, 
it took the starch right out of me, an’ made me as 
limp as an eel; that’s what ye done. What made 
ye do it, anyway, sir? Ye’ve keep me guessin’ ever 
since.” 

“Something here,” and Nathan placed his right 
hand over heart.” 

“Ah, heart-trouble, eh? Had it long?” 

“Yes, heart-trouble,” Nathan laughed in spite of 
himself. “It’s something you have never been much 
bothered with, Bill, except, perhaps, when it comes 
to your baby. It’s a peculiar disease, and one never 
knows just how and when it will affect him.” 

Oh, I see, ’ and Tooke’s eyes opened wide with 
understanding. “It does make a man act queer some¬ 
times, doesn’t it? Why, I can’t begin to tell ye how 
it’s made me feel about that kid of mine. When I 
see the little cuss layin’ in the cradle, with its blue 
eyes starin up straight at me, an’ listen to its squeaks, 
a funny feelin’ hits me, an’ then I alius want to do 
better.” 

“But the effect has not been very lasting, from all 
appearance, Bill,” Nathan reminded. 

“It hain’t been in the past, sir, but, by G-, it will 

now. D’ye know what I done to-day about them lies 
I told?” 

“No, I haven’t heard anything.” 

“Ye haven’t! Well, that’s queer. Why, I wrote 



248 The Master Revenge 

out a notice, an’ tacked it on the store door, statin’ 
that what I said about you burnin’ the church an’ yer 
connection with Mrs. Preston, was a pack of lies. 
It’s there now, an’ I writ it meself, fer I’m purty 
good with the pen when once I git started.” 

A feeling of relief came into Nathan’s heart as he 
listened to this confession. He now understood the 
meaning of the group that evening in front of the 
store. Then something else thrilled him. It was 
worth while, after all, to put into practice the Master’s 
command about forgiving one’s enemies. It had more 
effect than “an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a 
tooth.” He turned suddenly to his visitor. 

“Say, Bill,” he began, “this is great news to me. 
We have been enemies too long already. Let us 
henceforth be friends. Here’s my hand on it.” 

“Sure thing,” Bill exclaimed, as he reached out his 
big right grimy paw. “I’m only too glad to be a 
friend of sich a man as you. Yer as much ahead of 
Ned Preston as day is of night. Why, he’s a snake, 
an’ he’s treated me dirty.” 

And there in that little workshop the two former 
enemies clasped hands. To both it meant a great deal, 
although one saw much more in it than the other. 
Nathan had tested the spirit of the Master Revenge, 
and it had not failed. 


CHAPTER 27 


What the World Needs 
HE vision of the new church was constantly 



X before Nathan during the remainder of the eve¬ 
ning. He was anxious to receive the architect’s plans 
that he might see what it looked like on paper. But 
nothing could ever surpass the picture he had beheld 
the previous night, and of which he had thought a 
great deal. And closely connected with the vision was 
the woman he loved. She seemed to be an integral 
part of the church of his fancy, permeating it with an 
indefinable grace and beauty. He knew that it was 
love which worked the mystic charm, and he was not 
ashamed to confess it to himself. Somewhere he had 
read that in olden days churches had been built to the 
sound of sweetest music, and he understood the mean¬ 
ing now. This new church he would erect to wonder¬ 
ful heart music, the harmony of love to his Master, 
and love for a noble woman. Such would be his con¬ 
tinuing inspiration, and a secret which he would never 
divulge. 

And mingled with all this was a deep sense of 
gratitude for the change that had evidently come over 
Bill Tooke. It had been so sudden that he could not 
for an instant doubt the divine guidance. The Master 
had overruled all things for good, and had turned his 
visit to Tooke’s house into a marvellous victory. 
Nathan was well aware of the anger that had filled 


250 The Master Revenge 

his heart, and that the devil had driven him forth to 
wreak a brute revenge upon his enemy. But it must 
have been the Lord who defeated Satan and brought 
about the remarkable result. This thought gave him 
great comfort, and caused him to review his past life 
with all its strange vicissitudes. Perhaps, after all, 
they had been for the best, and his training in the 
school of affliction had been for some great purpose. 
He began to think that it was so, although there were 
some things he could not yet understand. He needed 
more light upon the mysteries surrounding his past 
career. 

In the morning he went over to the church site 
and viewed the ruins. Nothing but ashes and charred 
timbers remained where once a fair building had stood. 
Formerly he would have compared the scene to his 
own life—a sad desolation of shattered hopes. But 
not so now. He saw things in a different light, and 
as he beheld a new and a better building in place of 
the old, so with his own broken life. From the wreck 
of each there would come forth something far grander 
and nobler in every way. Not in his own strength 
could this be accomplished, but through the power of 
Him he had taken as his Guide and Upholder. 

That afternoon he visited the saw-mill up the road 
and obtained the prices of the different kinds of 
lumber he would need. There was an abundance on 
hand for his purpose, so he returned home, his heart 
filled with peace and joy. He longed to see Helen 
that he might discuss his plans with her. He pictured 
her animated face as she listened to his words Once 
during the evening he was strongly tempted to go to 
her. He might find her alone, and, perhaps, she would 


What the World Needs 251 

be pleased to see him. He resisted this, however, and 
decided to await a more favorable opportunity. 

The Parson was the only other person he wished 
to see, for without his consent he would not think of 
going ahead with the work. But he wished to have 
the architect's plans before speaking to the clergyman. 
By means of them he could explain his ideas far 
better than by mere words. 

The next day the plans arrived by mail. Nathan 
could hardly wait until he reached home, so anxious 
was he to open the package and examine the contents. 
But when he saw the plans he was delighted. The 
architect had done the work quickly and well. Every¬ 
thing was just as Nathan had suggested, and he was 
most anxious to be off to show them to the Parson. 
But in this he was saved the trouble, for he was about 
through with his dinner when he heard the rumble of 
wheels upon the road. Looking out of the front win¬ 
dow, he saw the clergyman jogging leisurely home¬ 
ward. Hurrying to the door, he hailed him, and asked 
him to wait for a few minutes. The Parson looked 
surprised at Nathan's excited manner, and glanced 
curiously at the papers he was holding in his hand. 

“What's all this about?” he inquired. “Is that a 
summons against me ? One never knows what to ex¬ 
pect next these days.” 

“It is a summons, sir,” Nathan laughingly replied, 
“but nothing to cause you any worry. It's merely a 
summons to obtain your consent to a plan I have in 
my mind. Look, perhaps this will explain my mean- 
ing.” 

Why, it's a church!” the clergyman exclaimed, 
peering down upon the drawings. “And those look 
to me like plans. What is this all about, anyway?” 


252 


The Master Revenge 

“Simply, that I wish to build a new church, and 
these are the plans I have had drawn. But I do not 
want to do anything without your consent. 

“But a church like that will cost more than we can 
afford/’ Mr. Westmore declared. “There was only 
a little insurance, and that will not go far.” 

“I know it will cost more than you can afford, sir, 
so that is why I wish to build it.” 

“You wish to build the church! But how can you 
do it without money?” 

“I do not intend to try. It will certainly take 
money, so I am willing to go ahead if you will give 
your consent.” 

“Dear me! dear me! this is so sudden and startling, 
Mr. Stone. You have my consent, all right, but I 
am doubtful whether I should let you do it. Why 
should you spend so much money upon the church?” 

“Because I have it to spend. It was left to me, 
so I wish to use some of it in a worthy cause.” 

The clergyman’s eyes were misty as he fixed them 
intently upon Nathan’s face. He was silent for a 
minute, lost in thought. 

“I can hardly believe my senses,” he murmured. 
“A new church! a new church! And you will build 
it! I must be surely dreaming. Nothing like this 
ever happened in this parish before.” 

“It is no dream, Mr. Westmore. I mean every¬ 
thing I have said. If you are willing to wait for a 
few months you will see what I shall do.” 

The clergyman impetuously reached out and seized 
Nathan’s hand in a strong, firm grip. 

“God bless you, sir,” he said. “My heart is too 
full to express my thoughts. This is all wonderful!” 

“And it will be more wonderful when you see the 


What the World Needs 253 

church completed/’ Nathan replied. “I am very 
anxious to get to work at once. But you must go 
over these plans with me, as you may have some 
suggestions to make.” 

Quite right, quite right, Mr. Stone. But suppose 
you come home with me now, and after dinner we can 
discuss the matter. My wife will be greatly pleased 
to see you.” 

“I have just finished my dinner,” Nathan explained, 
“but I shall go with you, nevertheless. The sooner 
we get busy, the better it will be. Please wait until 
I get my coat and hat.” 

As the horse jogged along the road the two men 
talked most earnestly about the building of the church, 
and by the time the rectory was reached, the clergy¬ 
man was well informed as to the undertaking. 

“This has turned out to be a wonderful day for 
me,” he quietly remarked, as he drew up the horse 
by the barn door. “How delighted my wife will be 
when she hears about your plans. She has been much 
worried over the loss of our church .” 4 

Mrs. Westmore was a bright, motherly-looking 
woman, who listened with intense astonishment as 
her husband related to her the good news. Tears of 
gratitude and joy came into her eyes as she stepped 
forward and took Nathan’s hand in hers. 

“We can never thank you enough for what you are 
planning to do,” she said. “It will mean a new lease 
of life to both of us. I am sure the Lord has guided 
you, and it teaches us another lesson of faith. We 
should never again doubt His goodness.” 

Nathan was invited to join the worthy couple at 
dinner. But he asked to be excused, and requested 
that he might spend the time in the study, a glimpse 


254 The Master Revenge 

of which he had caught though an open door on the 
right of the hall. 

“I am eager to look over your books/’ he told 
Mr. Westmore. “I hope you do not mind.” 

“Not at all, Mr. Stone. I am afraid, though, that 
you will not find much there to your liking. Most of 
my books are old, but they are all treasures to me, 
and friends of long years.” 

When once in the study, Nathan lost himself in 
examining the various volumes all neatly arranged 
on their shelves. There were commentaries, Church 
Histories, and other works of a theological and devo¬ 
tional nature. These he passed by, and turned his at¬ 
tention to essays and a few scientific books. Coming 
at length to a set of “The World’s Best Classics,” 
he chose at random one volume, settled himself in a 
big comfortable chair, and began to turn over the 
pages. In a few minutes he was deeply engrossed in 
one of Huxley’s lectures, and had just finished when 
the Parson entered the room. The clergyman smiled 
when he saw what his guest was reading. 

“A fine work, that,” he remarked, sitting down by 
his side. I am glad to know that you have discovered 
one of my treasures.” 

“A treasure it is, indeed,” Nathan replied. “I must 
get this set, as it is a library in itself.” 

“Yes, and a choice selection from the masters, Mr. 
Stone. I often turn to them when wearied and de¬ 
pressed. In reading their noble thoughts and the 
mighty deeds of the past, I am always strengthened. 
They struggled, toiled and conquered, and have passed 
on to us an inspiration which we greatly need. I know 
that I need it, at any rate.” 

From books the conversation gradually turned to 


255 


What the World Needs 

the building of the church, and there in the quietness 
of that little room the two men discussed every detail 
of the architect s plans. When Nathan at length rose 
to go, he glanced around the room, and motioned to 
a P cture on l ^ e wa *l above the Parson’s writing-desk. 

I like that,” he said. “I had a small print of it 
when I was in the Penitentiary, and it meant a great 
deal to me. It was given to me by a very beautiful 
young woman who once visited the place.” 

Ah, yes, The Good Shepherd’ is a favorite picture 
of mine,” the clergyman replied. “When I see Him 
on that steep, rugged cliff reaching down and risking 
His own life to rescue that sheep, I am reminded 
that I must spare no efforts to do the same in my 
humble way. I am afraid, though, that I come far 
short, as there are so many sheep going astray in this 
very parish and I am not doing what I should to save 
them. But what impresses you most of all about that 
picture, Mr. Stone?” 

“It is the love of the Master,” Nathan replied in a 
low, earnest voice. “It was love alone which caused 
Him to come down to this world to save mankind. 
And it is only such love that can really uplift and 
save.” 

“I believe you are quite right, sir. The world needs 
love more than anything else to-day.” 

“More love and less law,” Nathan fervently de¬ 
clared. “I have seen and experienced more than most 
men, and I believe that the majority of criminals were 
once not hopelessly bad at heart. If some of them 
had been treated differently, given another chance, 
for instance, they would have become good and reli¬ 
able citizens. But when once the prison door closes 
upon them, they lose heart, knowing that they are 


256 


The Master Revenge 

criminals in the eyes of the world, and that the blot 
can never be removed. They become hardened, and 
when they are at last free, they go from bad to worse.” 

“But that was not the way with you, Mr. Stone,” 
the clergyman reminded. 

“Perhaps not, but it might have been. You have 
no idea how near I came to being a criminal in reality 
for the rest of my life. I was an innocent man, 
charged with an offense I never committed. My heart 
was full of anger and rebellion against the world for 
the way I had been treated. But, thank God, I was 
led to see things in a different light. It was love alone 
which did it—love to my Great Master, and love for 
one of his fairest and noblest beings. More than that 
I cannot tell you without exposing the deep secret of 
my heart.” 

“I am grateful to you for telling me this much,” 
Mr. Westmore replied. “I am thankful to know that 
you have escaped, and that love did it. Yes, I believe 
we need more love in the world to-day. You are 
practicing it, at any rate, Mr. Stone, and I admire you 
for it.” 

Nathan made no reply, but turned toward the win¬ 
dow and looked out across the field sloping from the 
house down to the road. As he did so, he gave a 
start, for walking slowly up the driveway he saw 
Helen Preston. He did not wish to meet her just 
then, as he knew that he would feel embarrassed, and 
no doubt she would, too. The clergyman also saw her, 
and his face brightened. 

“Here comes Mrs. Preston now,” he said. “How 
delighted she will be when she hears the good news. 
You must meet her, Mr. Stone. Her visit is most 
timely.” 


What the World Needs 257 

“l would rather not meet her just now,” Nathan 
emphatically declared. “You can tell her what you 
like, but I do not wish to be present. Let me out 
by the back door, please.” 

The clergyman was about to remonstrate with Na¬ 
than, and urge him to remain. He looked keenly at 
him and, seeing the anxious expression upon his face, 
he refrained. 

“ Do . not think me ^grateful, sir,” Nathan added, 
but a jail-bird such as I am often has peculiar views 
about meeting people. You will do me a great favor 
if you let me slip quietly away.” 

Feeling certain that his visitor had some special 
reason for his request, the clergyman led him silently 
to the back door. As Nathan passed out, he seized 
him by the hand. 

"I do not understand why you are afraid of a woman, 
Mr. Stone, he said. “It is none of my business, of 
course. But some day I hope you will meet Mrs. 
Preston, and when you do, you will meet one of the 
noblest women God ever made.” 


CHAPTER 28 


Face to Face 


T NATHAN made his way up across the fields 



after he had left the Rectory, he meditated upon 


his conversation with the clergyman. He thought, 
too, of Helen, and knew that she would hear about the 
plans for the new church. He pictured to himself the 
expression of pleasure upon her face and the delight of 
interest in her eyes as she listened to the news. He 
wondered, too, what had become of Ned, and how he 
was enduring his agony of soul and mind. 

Coming at length to the edge of the woods, he 
stepped upon an old lumber road. He believed that this 
led to the brook back in the hills, and was the one that 
Helen was in the habit of using. He decided to follow 
it and spend the rest of the day at the very place where 
he had met her and her two little ones. 

Along the road he slowly moved, for he was in no 
hurry. He wished to have this quiet time alone, as 
to-morrow he would enter upon his new work, and 
there would be then little opportunity for rest and medi¬ 
tation. The old way was conducive to serious thought. 
In some places great trees lifted their stately forms, 
and through their branches the sun’s rays sifted softly 
down upon the mossy ground. Birds chirped and 
twittered on all sides, while active squirrels scampered 
to and fro, at times scolding the intruder into their 
rightful domain. It was here that Helen had walked 


258 


Face to Face 259 

on that bright afternoon, with her children dancing 
along by her side. What a joy it would be to have her 
with him now, and how many things they would have 
to talk about. It seemed almost sacred ground to 
him because she had been there. Perhaps she had been 
thinking of him on that day, recalling sweet memories 
of the past. He abandoned himself to the pleasure of 
such thoughts, even though he was well aware that 
she was the wife of another. But that was as far as 
he would go, so he told himself. She was his in spirit, 
he felt certain, and that was some consolation. 

From the summit of the hill, which he at length 
reached, the road dipped to the brook. It was easier 
walking now and his steps quickened. The murmur 
of flowing water reached him as he advanced, and in 
a few minutes he caught sight of the stream as it 
wound its way like a silver thread through the forest. 
He found the very spot where he had met Helen, and 
here he sat down to rest. It was good to be in such 
a place, and idly he watched the brook before him. 
The water was low, in keeping with the dry season of 
the year. But he knew that in a few months, and 
perhaps sooner, that brook would be a raging torrent, 
full from bank to bank. It was just like his life, he 
mused; seasons of peace and rest, and again times 
of fierce, overwhelming passions when the heart was 
greatly stirred. Such had been his experience. Now 
it was summer, with the terrible storms over, for 
a time, at least. 

Gradually his mind turned to the years he had spent 
in the Penitentiary with all the brightness of nature 
shut out. And there were thousands of people to-day 
leading the same life. Some deserved their fate, he 
well knew, and had to be punished for their offenses. 


260 


The Master Revenge 

Such treatment did not lessen evil, but increased it, 
and made people hard and indifferent to suffering. 
He thought of Ned Preston, and although the man 
deserved severe punishment, what would have been 
accomplished had he been sent to the Penitentiary? 
No restitution would have been made for the wrongs 
he had done. It would have brought misery upon his 
family, while he himself would have become more 
brutal and degraded. He knew from men he had met 
just what such treatment meant. 

He was aroused from his reverie by the sound of 
footsteps, and glancing down the brook, he saw a man 
slowly approaching, carrying a fishing-rod in his hand, 
although he was not fishing. At once he recognized 
the very man of whom he was thinking. It was un¬ 
usual for Ned to be in such a place, and Nathan won¬ 
dered what had brought him here to-day. Fishing 
was evidently not his object. He was somewhat an¬ 
noyed that the man he least desired to see had come to 
disturb his quietness. In fact, he did not wish to 
meet him at all. And yet he was not going away. 
Would Ned speak to him? and if so, what would he 
have to say? 

And all the time Preston was drawing nearer, and 
when but a few yards away he looked up and saw 
Nathan lying upon the bank. He started, and his hag¬ 
gard face flushed with anger when he beheld his en¬ 
emy. For a few seconds the two stared silently at 
each other, one with the calmness of a clear conscience 
and complete self-possession; the other, restless and 
uneasy, his eyes ablaze with defiance. 

“So this is how you spend your valuable time, eh?” 
Preston at last queried. 

“I couldn’t spend it in a much better way, Ned,” 


Face to Face 261 

Nathan replied. “It’s a very nice place here, and I 
am sorry that you have disturbed me.” 

Don t lie to me,” Preston roared, stepping quickly 
forward. “'You’ve been spying upon me; that’s what 
you’ve been doing.” 

“What makes you think so, Ned?” Do I look like 
a spy? Or is it your own guilty conscience that’s 
troubling you?” 

“Conscience! conscience! How I hate that word. 
Why, it’s driving me mad. It’s hell within me. Why 
did the Lord ever devise such a diabolical thing as 
conscience ?” 

Nathan was surprised at this confession, and he 
looked keenly into Preston’s eyes. The angry light 
of defiance had disappeared, and in its stead was an 
expression of unutterable anguish and despair. He 
could not help feeling sorry for this wretched man, 
and his heart softened a little toward him. 

“Perhaps the Lord is trying to make a better man 
of you, Ned,” he suggested, “and only through a trou¬ 
bled conscience can He succeed. Have you thought of 
that?” 

“I have thought of everything, but it is no use. 
Ever since that day I nearly shot you I have had no 
peace. I’ve been like a fugitive fleeing from justice. 
Oh, it’s terrible! terrible!” 

“You brought it upon yourself, though,” Nathan 
reminded. “Think how I suffered for long years in 
the Penitentiary.” 

“But you had a clear conscience, Nathan. You were 
innocent. But with me—O Lord!” 

Preston flung himself upon the ground and gazed 
moodily at the brook. The sparkling water and the 


262 The Master Revenge 

glory of the day had no charm for him. To a tor¬ 
tured soul nature appeals in vain. 

“Ned.” Nathan spoke sharply, causing the un¬ 
happy man to turn and look at him. “My conscience 
was clear, no doubt, when I was in the Penitentiary. 
But do you think I was happy? Far from it. For 
a long time the anger and rebellion that filled my 
heart drove out everything else. My one great desire 
was to be free that I might find the guilty ones and 
wreak a terrible revenge. I shudder now when I 
think of what I might have done had I obtained my 
freedom then.” 

“What made the change?” Preston asked, his curi¬ 
osity a little aroused. 

“There were several things, Ned. But the most 
important was the teaching I had received in child¬ 
hood from my parents. When my soul was in the 
blackest depths of despair, and I was cursing God and 
man alike, I happened to open a copy of the Great 
Book I had with me in my cell. I began to read in 
order to repudiate the sayings of the Master, and to 
prove by the way I had been treated that His words 
were wrong. But as I read, my eyes were opened, 
and as His wonderful messages of promise were un¬ 
folded to me, I saw things in a different light. I 
read how He was scorned and rejected by men, and 
that His sufferings were far worse than mine. That 
was the beginning of the change which came over me, 
and it brought a great peace into my soul.” 

“Bah!” Preston retorted. “That’s all bosh. I’ve 
heard all that before from canting preachers, and 
don’t believe a word of it. Religion is all nonsense.” 

“It’s because you have never tried it, Ned. But for 
the grace of God in my heart, do you think I would 


Face to Face 263 

be sitting here talking to you in this quiet way? Why 
I would have killed you when I found out what you 
had done to me, or I should have had you placed in the 
Penitentiary. It’s because your heart is bad, and you 
have done what is wrong that you are so wretched 
no ^* Don t bIame religion for your own evil deeds.” 

Why, you talk just like the Parson, Nathan. 
You ve missed your calling. You should be a preacher.” 

‘I might do far worse, Ned. But I am merely a 
carpenter, an ordinary repairer, and expect to be so 
to the end of my life. If I can do some good that wav 
it is all I ask.” 

“And build a new church, so I hear. That’s ^oin^ 
the limit.” 8 8 

“Yes, that’s what I am planning to do. But you 
should be the last person to sneer at such a work as 
that.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you destroyed the old church.” 

With a muttered oath Preston sprang to his feet, 
and faced his accuser. 

“How dare you say such a thing as that ?” he de¬ 
manded. “What right have you to say that I de¬ 
stroyed the church?” 

Keep cool, Ned, and don’t get so excited. You 
know very well that you did it. You wished to be 
revenged upon the Lord, and set His House on fire 
out of spite. You can’t deny it.” 

“B-but, how do you know all this?” Preston stam¬ 
mered. His face was very white now, and his body 
was shaking. 

“Oh, never mind how I know! But it is true, and 
when you expected to gloat over the deed, you went 


264 The Master Revenge 

nearly crazy when the cross fell to the ground. Isn t 
that so?” 

“Good heavens! are you a man or a devil?” Pres¬ 
ton exclaimed in amazement, shrinking back as if from 
a blow. “How did not find out all about this?” 

“It doesn’t matter, Ned, how I found out. But it 
is true, nevertheless. In your wild rage at your 
troubled conscience, you turned your hand against the 
church, the symbol of the Lord’s presence in this 
parish. You defied Him by destroying His House. 
But the outcome has been altogether different from 
what you expected. That charred, fallen cross filled 
your superstitious heart with a terrible and name¬ 
less fear, and you grovelled before it like a man bereft 
of His senses.” 

“And you knew of all this, yet didn’t expose me! 
My! what a chance for revenge.” 

“What kind of revenge, Ned?” 

“To have me arrested, of course. It’s a wonder 
you didn’t do it. Why?” 

“You deserved it, no doubt. But that would have 
been only brute revenge. There is a greater revenge 
than that, the revenge of forgiveness. As for pun¬ 
ishment, you are getting all that you can stand now, 
and from outward appearance, nothing could be more 
terrible.” 

Preston looked at Nathan, and slowly the meaning 
of it all dawned upon his mind. He placed his right 
hand to his forehead in an abstracted manner. 

“And is that why you spared me?” he gasped. 

“Partly, Ned. At first I did it because I wanted 
you to make all the restitution you could for the 
wrongs you had committed, and for Helen’s sake.” 


Face to Face 265 

“Ah! I see. I understand now. You love her; 
that’s it.” 

“I do, Ned, and you knew that I loved her when you 
took her from me. You lied to her, and forged my 
name to a letter you sent her. Oh, I know all about 
it.” 

Nathan rose suddenly to his feet as the past swept 
strongly upon him. He could easily control himself 
when speaking about other wrongs he had suffered. 
But when it came to Helen, it was difficult for him to 
remain calm. And this Preston noted. 

“Helen never loved me,” he muttered. 

“But she’s been a true wife to you, Ned, and a 
good mother to your children. You can’t deny that.” 

“I don’t. But she never loved me.” 

“Did you ever give her any chance to do so? Why, 
almost any other woman would have left you long ago. 
It’s a wonder to me that Helen didn’t.” 

“She loves you, Nathan, more than she does me. 
I know it, and that makes me mad. You’re her style, 
I guess, fond of religion, going to church, and such 
stuff. Why, she’d rather spend the day at the Rec¬ 
tory with old Parson Westmore and his wife than with 
me.” 

“And for a mighty good reason, Ned. But, there, 
we’ve talked enough. I have told you some plain 
things to-day, but it’s no use. I did hope that you 
might see the error of your ways and change your 
course of living. But you are just the same as ever. 
My fond hopes are doomed.” 

Nathan was becoming afraid of himself. To have 
Preston so near, and to see the pettiness and wretch¬ 
edness of his soul was most disgusting. The stuff 
of which true manhood is made did not seem to be in 


266 


The Master Revenge 

the fellow. It was strange that he had even a con¬ 
science to trouble him. He was about to walk away, 
when he turned suddenly around. 

“If you are a man, Ned, why don’t you square 
yourself with the world?” 

“In what way?” 

“Make a full confession of what you did to me. 
Am I to bear your guilt for the rest of my life? In 
justice to me why don’t you do it, as well as for your 
own honor?” 

“Oh, I couldn’t think of doing such a thing. It 
would ruin me.” 

“Or in other words, Ned, you are a coward, and a 
most contemptible one, at that.” 

Nathan stood for a minute looking keenly at the 
unhappy man’s downcast face. Then, receiving no 
reply, he walked rapidly away down along the bank of 
the brook. 


CHAPTER 29 


As a Man Soweth 

T HE following days were busy ones for Nathan. 

He plunged into his new undertaking with great 
enthusiasm, and inspired with zeal all who worked 
with him. Peter Martin was the first to offer his as¬ 
sistance in hauling lumber from the mill. He did it 
fieely refusing to be placed on the pay-roll 

woufdn-t r ci he bleSSin ’ S IVe reC6ived ’ me conscience 
dare? C T T if 1 took P ay >” he de¬ 
mine T’ u i • , beS ‘f eS ’ lts my Father’s House an’ 
mine I m helpin to build, so why should I take money 
fer doin’ sich a thing?” y 

He had just arrived with another load, and had 
drawn up h.s team on the church grounds as he ut¬ 
tered these words. Nathan was standing by his side 
his notebook and pencil in his hands, ready to enter 

SoT poet Smiled ^ he S,i ^ d them back 

7! 'I g t° 0d ° f y ° U ’ Mr ' Martin > to consider this as 
3 d “/’ he re P' ied - “I* help a great deal ” 

Not as a duty, Mr. Stone,” Peter corrected ‘‘It’s 
because I love to do it. D’ye think my wife an’ me 
ever think of duty when we look after our home an’ 
care fer our little ones? Not a bit of it. It’s love 
an nuthin else. Ye never think of duty when yer 
heart’s filled with love.” ' yer 

Nathan looked at his neighbor’s bronzed, rugged 

267 


268 


The Master Revenge 

face, his honest gray eyes, and a great respect for him 
came into his heart. Notwithstanding his simple 
humble life, Peter was truly a noble man, for he com¬ 
prehended that real seryice is love and not duty alone. 

“I am glad that you look upon it in such a light 
as that, Mr. Martin,” he said. “It makes a wonderful 
difference when we work for love and not mere duty.” 

“Indeed it does, sir. An’ I’m not the only one. 
There’s Fletcher, fer instance. He’s goin’ to begin 
haulin’ to-morrow. He’s never fergotten what ye 
did fer him, an’ the cross ye made an’ put upon the 
grave of his little child. An’ there are others, too.” 

He ceased and looked over to where several men 
were clearing away the rubbish for the foundation of 
the new church. 

“Now, jist look there at Bill Tooke,” he continued 
in a low voice. “I kin hardly believe me eyes. If 
anybody had told me a week ago that he’d be doin’ an 
honest day’s work, an’ at the church, of all places, 
I would have called him a fool. But there he is, dig- 
gin’ away fer all he’s worth. An’ he seems to enjoy 
it, too. Wonders will never cease.” 

“Bill was the first man to apply for work,” Nathan 
explained. “So far, he’s been doing very well. I 
hope he will last. It may make a new man of him.” 

“It will, it will, Mr. Stone,” Peter declared, as he 
scrambled to the ground, and began to unfasten the 
chain which bound his load. “Why, he’s a different 
man already, an’ it’s due to you, sir, fer what you 
done fer him.” 

The entire parish was intensely stirred by the 
building of the new church, and the praise of Nathan 
was on the lips of all. He heard nothing, however, 
of what they were saying, but went on steadily with 


As a Man Soweth 269 

his work, directing and supervising everything. He 
made several trips to the city to order window frames, 
doors, mouldings and other material needed. All this 
kept him very busy, and he was happier than he had 
been for years. As the building rose from the ground, 
took shape and stood forth in graceful outlines among 
its setting of verdant trees, his heart was filled with 
joy and gratitude. His dream was at last coming- 
true. & 

Many were the visitors who came to view the work, 
for word of what was being done had extended far be¬ 
yond the parish. All were enthusiastic at what they 
beheld, and heartily congratulated Nathan. But he 
needed none of their praise, for the peace and satisfac¬ 
tion of his own heart were reward enough. He was 
working not for the approbation of men, but for the 
glory of his Great Master. 

But of all who came, the Parson was the most 
interested. Not a day passed that he was not there, 
and sometimes more often. To him it seemed al¬ 
most too good to be true. He would stand and watch 
the men as they worked, and more than once his eyes 
grew misty as he gazed upon the structure. 

“What a day it will be in the parish when the 
Bishop comes to consecrate the church,” he one day 
remarked to Nathan. “When do you suppose it will 
be ready? The hall where we are now holding serv¬ 
ice is overcrowded every Sunday. I am anxious to 
be once more in a building set apart for worship.” 

“I hope the church will be ready early next sum¬ 
mer,” Nathan replied. “We are working hard to get 
the outside finished before the cold weather arrives. 
We can work all winter at the interior, for I have al- 


270 The Master Revenge 

ready ordered the stoves, so the building will be com¬ 
fortable.” 

“I am rejoiced to hear this, Mr. Stone. It will 
also please Mrs. Preston, for she asks so often about 
it. She takes a great interest in the work, and I have 
to report to her every day. It gives her much joy, and, 
poor woman she needs it, as she has many burdens 
to bear these days.” 

“Why, what’s the matter now ?” Nathan asked. 

“It’s her husband again. He has been very strange 
of late, and sometimes I fear he is mentally unbal¬ 
anced. He eats little, so I understand, and is but a 
shadow of his former self. I do not know the cause 
of it all. Perhaps he has overworked his brain with 
his business affairs. Anyway, he is a great trial to 
his wife. And, by the way, she has offered to give 
a new organ for the church, ‘In memory,’ so she said.” 

“In memory of whom, Mr. Westmore?” Nathan 
inquired, much interested. “Of her parents?” 

“I do not know. She merely said ‘In memory of 
the past,’ whatever she means by that. I have thought 
over these words, and they puzzle me. If she had 
mentioned her parents in connection with the past, 
it would be quite clear. But she never said a word 
about them. It must refer to some incident in her 
past life. Anyway, she offered no explanation, and I 
did not care to question her.” 

Nathan’s heart quickened as he listened to the 
clergyman’s words. Could it be possible that Helen 
wished to present the organ in memory of those happy 
days when they were so much together? Did she 
so cherish their love? It could mean nothing else, he 
felt certain. 

He thought much about this during the days and 


As a Man Soweth 271 

weeks that followed. Although he seldom saw Helen 
now, the idea that she was thinking of him and his 
work was a great inspiration. He mused over this 
during the evenings as he sat with book in hand be¬ 
fore his fire, for the late September nights were cool. 
The church was now completely enclosed, shingled, 
the windows all in, and the stoves set up. He could 
thus rest with a contented mind, knowing that no 
matter how rough or severe the weather, he could 
work upon the interior. 

He was sitting thus quite late one stormy night, 
reading a book he had purchased the last time he was 
in the city. He had seen favorable notice of it in a 
recent paper, and decided to obtain it at the first op¬ 
portunity. It was David Grayson’s “Adventures in 
Contentment,” and as he read, he lost himself in the 
pages, and unheeded the time as it slipped by. Here 
was a writer who appealed to his own soul. He had 
been confined like himself, although in a different 
kind of prison, which the world calls “office,” and 
when he was at last free he revelled in his new ad¬ 
ventures upon his farm. From the opening chapter, 
“The Valley of Vision,” he read on to “The Marsh 
Ditch.” How delightful this was, where the author 
relates about digging a ditch on his farm by the sweat 
of his brow. He revels in the sounds he hears, the 
things he sees, and the invigorating odor of the fresh, 
upturned earth. 

Often as I work,” Grayson says, “I stop to see; really 
see: see everything, or to listen; and it is the wonder of 
wonders how much there is in this old world which we 
never dreamed of, how many beautiful, curious, interest¬ 
ing sights and sounds there are which ordinarily make no 
impression upon our overfed and pre-occupied minds.” 


272 The Master Revenge 

Several times Nathan read these words, and then 
laid the book upon the table by his side. The rain 
beating against the window, and the kettle humming 
upon the stove sounded like music to his ears. It 
was good to be in such a cosy place on such a night. 
How Grayson must have enjoyed his quiet farm. He 
would like to meet the man who found such pleasure 
in his common occupations. 

The storm increased in fury as he sat there, and 
the windows rattled. The house shook at times, al¬ 
though it was partly protected by trees. In the midst 
of a more violent gust than ever, a heavy knock 
sounded upon the kitchen door. Wondering who 
could be calling on such a night, Nathan hastily rose, 
opened the door and peered out into the blackness. 
For a few seconds he could see nothing. Then the 
dripping form of Parson Westmore appeared before 
him, his face and beard wet with rain. In one hand 
he was holding the reins, trying to restrain his res¬ 
tive horse. 

“Quiet, Jerry,” he ordered, turning to the animal. 
“What’s the matter with you, anyway? It’s the 
storm, Mr. Stone,” he explained. “And no wonder, 
for this is a wild night.” 

“What brings you here, then?” Nathan asked. “Is 
anything the matter?” 

“Yes. Mr. Preston is very ill, and keeps calling al¬ 
most incessantly for you. He starts up in bed at 
every sound and asks if you are there. Nothing else 
will satisfy him. Will you go with me? Mrs. Pres¬ 
ton will be most grateful if you will.” 

“Certainly I shall go, Mr. Westmore,” Nathan as¬ 
sured. “Just wait a minute and I shall be with you.” 

On the way the clergyman explained how Preston 


As a Man Soweth 


273 


had been found by a neighbor lying by the side of 
a backland road, in a very weak condition. He had 
caught a severe cold and owing to his run-down condi- 
tion the doctor was afraid that he would not survive 
He is in a very bad shape, now,” Mr. Westmore 
continued, ‘and is quite flighty. Sometimes he doesn’t 
even know his wife. He raves a great deal, and has 
peculiar notions about missing bonds, and he often 
mentions your name. The mind is a strange thing 
when deranged, isn’t it, Mr. Stone ?” 


When was he found on the road?” Nathan asked 
unheeding the question. 

Night before last. Mrs. Preston sent for me, 
and I went at once for the doctor. A trained nurse 
is coming from the city in the morning. Poor Mrs. 
Preston is almost worn out with anxiety and lack of 
sleep. She must get some rest.” 

It did not take them long to reach the Preston 
house, and while the clergyman drove home to stable 
his horse, Nathan entered by the front door without 
knocking. Helen, who had been awaiting his coming 
met him, and without a word she held out her hand.' 
As Nathan grasped it, he noticed how white and 
strained was her face, although her eyes were un¬ 
usually bright. She seemed so frail standing there, 
that he longed to place his arms around her for sup¬ 
port. To him she resembled some angelic being, so 
quiet and dignified was her manner, her dark\air 
forming a striking contrast to her white face. 

„ am S Iad y° u are here, Nathan,” she told him. 
“ft is good of you to come on such a night as this.” 

I am thankful that I am needed, Helen. Ned 
is very bad, so the Parson said.” 

I believe so. But, lay aside your coat and come 


274 The Master Revenge 

upstairs. You can hear him calling for you. He 
may not know you, but it is comforting to have you 
here.” 

Nathan detected the note of relief in her voice, and 
it thrilled him. It meant much to be by the side of 
Helen when she needed him. 

In another minute they were at the bedroom door, 
and as Nathan looked in he was startled by the appear¬ 
ance of the man lying upon the bed. He could hardly 
believe that it was Ned Preston, his unshaven face 
and wild eyes giving him a ferocious expression. He 
was beating the air with his hands, as if trying to 
ward off some imaginary enemy. His head kept mov¬ 
ing incessantly upon the pillow, and the perspiration 
stood out in beads upon his forehead. 

“Nathan, Nathan, where are the bonds?” he asked 
“I can’t find them. Yes, there they are. Look, over 
there in that box. Ah, I’ve got them!” he cried as 
his hands clutched the air. He emitted an insane 
chuckle which was hard for the watchers to endure. 

“I can’t stand this!” Helen moaned. “It is ter¬ 
rible !” 

“Suppose you go downstairs, and leave me with 
Ned,” Nathan suggested. 

“No, no, I must remain here. It is my duty. 
Look!” 

Nathan turned quickly and saw that Preston had 
lifted his head and shoulders from the pillow, and 
was staring straight before him. 

“You’ll never get me!” he cried. “I’ll die first! 
I won’t go, I tell you! Take your hands off me. 
Oh! Oh!” 

Quickly Nathan stepped to his side, and as gently 


As a Man Soweth 275 


as possible forced him back upon the pillow. He then 
placed his hand upon the unhappy man’s forehead. 

There, there, Ned, nobody is going to take you,” 
he soothed. “We won’t let anyone harm you.” 

The words and the cool touch calmed Preston for 
a few minutes. He remained still as if trying to com¬ 
prehend something. 

“Where is Nathan?” he asked. “I want Nathan. 
He won’t let them take me. Nathan! Nathan!” he 
shrieked. “Save me! Save me!” Don’t let them 
get me!’ 


With a stifled moan, Helen left the room, and Na¬ 
than was alone with the demented man. He spoke to 
Preston, telling him that he was near, and that no one 
would get him. This, however, made no difference, 
so Nathan sat down by the bed while Ned continued 
his ravings. He was living over again his past life 
of infamy, and with all pretenses removed, he was 
exposing to the very one he had deeply wronged the 
terrors which had been haunting him. There was 
hardly anything that he did not mention, from the 
stolen bonds to the burning of the church, and Na¬ 
than was thankful that Helen was not present to hear 
all that he said. Twice she came into the room but 
as there was nothing she could do, she obeyed Nathan’s 
request that she should let him keep watch. 

„ “ You lie dow n and get some rest,” he advised 
“One is enough here, and I will call you if necessary.” 

But I cannot sleep, Nathan. It is impossible with 
Ned raving like this.” 

“Lie down, anyway. You may be able to eet a 
little rest.” 

Nathan spoke quietly, but his heart was beating 
fast. How strange it seemed that he should be so 


276 


The Master Revenge 

near Helen, in her own house, telling her what to do. 
That she was depending upon him now, gave him 
considerable satisfaction. Oh, if he could be always 
with her, to help and protect her! He thought of all 
this after she had left the room. What a dismal 
failure had been her life, and it was all due to the 
man lying upon the bed. What trouble Ned had caused 
both of them. Little did he ever imagine during those 
terrible prison days of impotent rage and despair, that 
the one responsible for his imprisonment would be 
so near and in such a helpless condition. But as Ned 
had sown, so was he now reaping. The wheel had 
turned completely around, and punishment in a most 
terrible form had come at last. He often shuddered 
as he listened to the ravings of the wretched man. 
Far better a life-time imprisonment with a clear con¬ 
science than such tortures as Ned was undergoing. 

About midnight he went downstairs for a brief 
respite. He glanced into the sitting-room where a 
light was dimly burning. And there he saw Helen 
lying upon a sofa, fast asleep. Only for a few seconds 
was he constrained to watch her. How beautiful she 
looked to him, and the impression lingered in his mind 
as he returned slowly upstairs. He stopped at the 
landing to look at several pictures upon the walls. 
One, especially, attracted his attention. It was 
Watts’s “Hope,” of which Nathan was very fond. 
As he looked at the blindfolded woman seated upon 
the world, with her head bent low to catch the faint 
sound from the one unbroken string of the lyre she 
was grasping in her left hand, he wondered if Helen 
had hung the picture there. He imagined her standing 
before it. Had it inspired her in times of darkness 


277 


As a Man Soweth 

and distress ? Did she find in it the story of her own 
life? 

For some time he remained there, his mind busy 
with many thoughts. He then went back into the bed¬ 
room, and took up again his solitary watch by the side 
of the restless man. 


CHAPTER 30 


The Completed Hevenge 

W HEN the nurse arrived from the city, Nathan 
went home, knowing that he was no longer needed 
that day. He was tired, but he thought little about that, 
for Helen’s thanks thrilled his entire being. She had 
accompanied him to the door and told him how grate¬ 
ful she was for his kindness. He had tried to say 
something in reply, to speak words of encouragement. 
But he felt that he had miserably failed, although he 
believed that Helen understood his meaning by the 
look in her eyes. 

Several times during the week he went to inquire 
after Ned, and learned that he was slowly improving. 
When at last Preston came to himself, and one day 
heard Nathan’s voice downstairs, he asked to see him. 
As the visitor entered the room, the invalid tried to 
rise from the bed. 

“What are you doing in my house?” he demanded 
in an angry voice. 

“I have come to find out how you are getting along, 
of course,” Nathan replied. 

“Then, you can save yourself the trouble after this. 
How dare you come here? Get out of my house at 
once.” 

Knowing that further talk would be useless, Nathan 
left the excited man and went downstairs. There he 
met Helen, her face very white. 

278 


The Completed Revenge 279 

“Oh, don’t mind Ned,” she whispered. “He does 
not fully realise what he has said. He has insulted 
you, and I am so sorry.” 

“Do not let this worry you, Helen,” Nathan replied. 
“I understand.” 

“But you will come back, Nathan?” 

“I will if you want me.” 

Certainly I want you.” Helens voice was low, 
and her eyes were misty. She held out her hand. 
“Good-by now. I must go back to Ned.” 

During the following days Nathan kept steadily 
at his work upon the church. But his thoughts turned 
often to the house down the road. He learned from 
Mr. Westmore that Ned was improving, and as soon 
as he was able to be around the family would return 
to the city. This was disturbing news to him, for 
then Helen would be much farther away. He saw 
her again at service in the hall. He met her as she 
was leaving the building. 

tt are b°* n ? away this week,” she informed him. 
“Ned is much better, and is anxious to leave the 
country.” 

“Is he as restless as ever?” Nathan asked. 

“He is just the same; seldom talks, and takes very 
little interest in anything. Sometimes I fear that his 
mind is affected. You will come to see us in the city, 
will you not, Nathan?” 

“I am not sure about that, Helen. It would only 
make Ned angry, so, perhaps, I had better stay away.” 

Nathan never forgot the startled look that Helen 
gave him, and her faltering “good-by.” He thought 
of them as he walked slowly homeward. He needed 
no words to tell of the agony of her soul, and what 
it meant for her to return to the city with her husband 


280 The Master Revenge 

in such a condition. She was made for brightness and 
joy. But instead, her whole married life had been a 
lonely struggle, a constant misery and gloom. The 
idea that she needed him, and that he could do so little 
for her, was hard to endure. At times there swept 
upon him the great temptation which had come to him 
before. Why not speak to her, tell of his love, and 
urge her to flee with him to some distant country? 
He crushed back this longing, as he had done in the 
past, and chided himself for even thinking about such 
a thing. Helen would never consent, he felt certain, 
and, besides, it would not be right. She was another 
man’s wife, and so long as she was bound to Ned, 
she must remain by his side. He would wait, and let 
events shape themselves. All things would come out 
right at last, so he believed, if he could only be pa¬ 
tient. 

The weeks slipped rapidly by, and so engrossed was 
Nathan in his work that Christmas season was upon 
him almost before he was aware of it. He had made 
several business trips to the city, but had not seen 
Helen. He longed to go to her, to hear her voice, to 
look upon her face, to find out how she was getting 
along. But he did not go, knowing that Ned would 
be away from home. That would be too much like 
a sneak and a coward. 

The day before Christmas was cold. For some time 
he had been turning over in his mind what he might 
do in the way of Christmas cheer for some of the 
children in the parish. At last his mind was made 
up, so visiting the store, he gave orders for nuts, 
candy, and such toys as the store contained. These 
were to be sent to a number of little ones, including 
the Watters and the Martin children. His gifts to the 


The Completed Revenge 


281 

liW^l fami i Iy T re ,arger ’ consis ting principally of a 
liberal supply of provisions. Bill was now deserving 

tL SU h H , P ' I 1 ® had WOrked faithf uHy and well at 
the church, and never once had he shown the least 
desire to return to his former manner of living. 

Christmas Eve shut down cold and dismal. A wind 
from the north east raced over the land, and the tele¬ 
phone wires along the road hummed their weird pre¬ 
lude of an approaching storm. Nathan placed a 
couple of hardwood sticks in his heater and settled him¬ 
self back in his easy chair for a pleasant evening’s 
reading. That day the Parson had presented him with 
a set of “The World’s Best Classics,’’ and he was 
eager to sample the contents. He chose one of the 
volumes and began to read. He turned on purpose 
to Dickens; “Christmas Carol,” and read it through. 
He then laid the book aside, as memories of the past 
swept upon him. He was a child again in his old 
home, with his parents, brothers and one sister 
there. He recalled the happy faces and the joy that 
prevailed. Now they were all gone and he alone was 
left, and a jail-bird, at that. He stirred, as a violent 
guest of wind shook the house and rattled the windows. 
It was pleasant to be in his comfortable room on such 
a wild night, even though alone. If only he had Helen 
by his side, his happiness would be complete. He won¬ 
dered what she was doing this night. Perhaps she was 
preparing the Christmas presents for her little ones. 
How he would like to be there to help, or, at least, to 
watch the animated expression upon her face. But 
what was Ned doing? Most likely he was away 
carousing with some of his boon companions. The 
thought brought an angry gleam into Nathan’s eyes 
and caused him to clench his hands firmly together. 


282 


The Master Revenge 

“The brute!” he muttered. “Perhaps I have made 
a mistake in dealing with Ned. The Penitentiary is 
the best place for him. And, yet-” 

He ceased abruptly as Preston’s words and actions 
since the burning of the church came to his mind. 
The man puzzled him. He sighed and reached out 
for the book he had laid upon the table, when a loud 
rap sounded upon the door. Wondering who could be 
visiting him on such a night, he rose to his feet, threw 
open the door and looked out. And there he saw 
Peter Martin, holding something in his hand. 

“Come in, Mr. Martin,” he invited. “I am glad 
to see you.” 

“I can’t stay, sir,” Peter replied. “This is Christ¬ 
mas Eve, so I must git home at once. I’ve jist come 
from the store, an’ was asked to give ye this phone 
message. It’s from the city. Good-night, sir, an’ a 
happy Christmas.” 

Before Nathan could thank him, Peter was gone. 
Closing the door, Nathanj tore open the envelope. 
Whom could it be from ? he asked himself, as he drew 
forth the paper, and unfolded it. 

“Ned died suddenly in his office to-day. Come 
quick. I want you. 

“Helen.” 

That was all, and for a few seconds Nathan stood 
staring at the message. He then dropped into his 
chair, trembling violently. “Ned died suddenly in 
his office to-day. Come quick. I want you.” The 
words pounded through his brain. So Helen had 
turned to him! He must go to her at once. But how 
could he get there? He rose from his chair, opened 
the door once more and stepped out. The blackness 
lifted up itself against him like a wall and he could feel 


The Completed Revenge 283 

the snow upon his face. But it mattered little to him 
what the night was like. Helen had sent for him, and 
that was sufficient. There was no one to whom he 
could now turn for assistance. Peter Martin had two 
horses, but they were so slow that it would take them 
a long time to reach the railway station ten miles away. 
And, besides, he did not wish to ask his worthy neigh¬ 
bor to leave home on Christmas Eve. He, accordingly, 
decided to walk, feeling certain that he could do 
it in time to catch the midnight express. 

Going back into the house, he was not long in 
preparing himself for the journey. With a glance 
at the stove, to see that all was safe, he seized his light¬ 
ed lantern and started forth. The wind swept upon 
him as he reached the highway, but as it was in his 
back, it proved an assistance instead of a hindrance. 
The snow, thicker now, swirled about his body and 
flung itself across the road. But the light of the lan¬ 
tern guided his steps and rapidly he sped onward. 
A sense of exhilaration possessed him. He was on 
his way to Helen. She needed him and had sent for 
him. Passing the Preston house, he glanced in its 
direction, but all was in darkness there. Never again 
would Ned visit the place which his ill-gotten money 
had purchased. He had lived a fast, reckless life, and 
was considered a keen business man. The world 
knew nothing about his past deed of infamy, and no 
doubt the papers would now laud him to the skies. He 
had escaped earthly punishment, but not the stern 
avenger within him. And the end had come in an in¬ 
stant while in his office, and he had made not the 
slightest effort to clear the name of the man he had 
so grievously injured. Now it was too late, for Na¬ 
than was determined that no word of his should ever 


284 The Master Revenge 

reveal the deed. He would let it rest and bear the 
disgrace to the grave. Helen knew, and so did Mr. 
Black, the lawyer. But neither would divulge the 
secret without his consent, he felt sure. 

Such was the burden of his thoughts as he plodded 
steadily forward. The storm increased in fury, and 
the travelling became more difficult. At times he was 
protected by stretches of woods, and here he obtained 
a much needed respite from the fierceness of the wind. 
But when he again passed into the bleak open coun¬ 
try, he found it difficult to keep his lantern from being 
blown out. Often he was compelled to shelter it as 
much as possible beneath his coat. With the light 
thus dimmed, or hidden altogether, he found it almost 
impossible to follow the road, and several times he 
floundered off into the ditch. The snow was becom¬ 
ing deeper all the time, which made the travelling 
harder. 

At length Nathan became very weary and longed 
to sit down by the side of the road to rest. But the 
thought of Helen awaiting his coming urged him for¬ 
ward. Lights from various houses along the way 
twinkled dimly through the storm. He knew that par¬ 
ents were busy preparing for Christmas morning, load¬ 
ing trees or filling little stockings. The storm did not 
affect them in their cosy homes, and they knew nothing 
of the lonely wayfarer plodding so wearily along the 
road. But Nathan thought of them, and visions rose 
before his mind of those scenes of quiet contentment. 

The snow was steadily increasing in depth, and the 
wind seemed more intense in its fury. Step by step 
he struggled bravely onward. An hour passed, then 
two, and still he was several miles from the station. 
Then another hour, and midnight was drawing near. 


The Completed Revenge 285 

He must catch that train. Helen must not be dis¬ 
appointed. Often he stumbled now, and several times 
the lantern almost dropped from his benumbed hand. 
This always sent a fear through his heart, and for a 
few minutes aroused him to renewed energy. This, 
however, soon passed, and he staggered on as before. 
Midnight came and still he battled with the fury sur¬ 
rounding him. He gave up all hope of reaching the 
station in time. He had only another half mile to go, 
but it seemed a great distance to him now. He shuf¬ 
fled his feet mechanically through the snow. He 
peered keenly ahead, and ere long saw the station 
light. This gave him new courage, for there he would 
find warmth and shelter, at any rate. But even as 
he looked, the shrill shriek of an engine sounded 
through the storm. It was the express, he well knew, 
and excitedly he dashed forward, and leaped upon 
the platform just as the blazing headlight of the be¬ 
lated train came into view around a bend in the track. 
In another minute the hissing snow-bedecked engine 
thundered past, and drew up its long train of cars in 
front of the station. Nathan scrambled on board with 
a number of other men, made his way into the smok¬ 
ing-room, and sank down exhausted upon one of the 
seats. Never was rest so sweet to any man nor the 
warmth more pleasant. And there he stayed, hud¬ 
dled in a corner seat rousing up only to pay his fare 
when the conductor made his appearance. 

By the time the train reached the city Nathan was 
a little rested. Notwithstanding the storm and the 
lateness of the train there were coaches at the station, 
so, boarding one, he was driven to his destination. 
When he reached the Preston house, he stepped out, 
paid the coachman and walked up the steps. His 


286 


The Master Revenge 

hand was raised to ring the bell, but ere he could press 
the button, the door opened and Helen stood before him. 

“1 knew you would come,” she quietly said, as she 
closed the door and held out her hand. “It is good of 
you, and on such a night! But, oh! how tired you 
look,” she added, observing Nathan’s weary face. 
“Let me help you off with your coat.” 

But Nathan held her hand in his and looked long- 
ingly into her eyes. He wanted to speak, to express 
his sympathy, but words would not come. He knew 
that she was very tired, and her noble courage touched 
him. Slowly he released her hand, removed his hat 
and coat and followed her into a cosy room, where 
a fire was burning brightly in the grate. Then side 
by side before the glowing coals Helen told him the 
brief story of her husband’s death. 

“The shock was terrible,” she said. “Ned had spent 
the day at his office, and did not come home to dinner. 
During the evening, while I was reading here to the 
children, the news came. The janitor making his 
rounds, found Ned dead at his desk. It was heart 
trouble, so the doctor decided.” 

“I am glad you sent for me, Helen,” Nathan replied. 
“But I am afraid there is little that I can do.” 

“There is a great deal, Nathan. It is something 
very important, and that is why I sent for you. It 
is in connection with a letter Ned wrote and sent to 
the newspaper for publication. The editor found it 
in his mail yesterday afternoon, but owing to Ned’s 
death, he did not wish to publish it without my con¬ 
sent. He left the letter with me, and that is why I 
sent for you. Here it is.” 

From a nearby table she lifted a folded paper which 
she handed to Nathan. The latter took it, and as he 


287 


The Completed Revenge 

began to read his eyes opened wide in amazement. 
It was Ned Preston’s complete confession of his theft 
of the bonds! He had evidently written and mailed 
it during the morning of the day of his death. Na¬ 
than could hardly believe his senses. Carefully he 
read every word, and some things which hitherto had 
been a mystery were now explained. So Ned had at 
last really confessed his crime! What a sensation it 
would have made. But it was not too late yet. A 
great longing came into Nathan’s heart to see that 
confession in print and to have his own name vindi¬ 
cated. It was only just that such a thing should be 
done. After long years of suffering it was but right 
that the world should know that he was an innocent 
man. His heart beat fast as he thought of all it would 
mean, and his hand holding the paper trembled. 
Helen, watching, surmised the struggle, but remained 
silent. 

Presently Nathan rose to his feet and paced rapid¬ 
ly up and down the room. What should he do ? What 
a revenge it would be to allow that confession to be 
published. The animal nature within him demanded 
it. Then suddenly, as if a voice spoke, there came into 
his mind the greater revenge upon which he had de¬ 
termined. He stopped short and glanced at the woman 
gazing thoughtfully into the fire. And for her sake, 
too, he had resolved to be a man far removed from the 
mere brute creation. For years she had inspired him, 
and he had tried to be true. He must not fail now in 
the time of temptation. Swiftly he stepped toward her 
and held out the paper. 

“Helen, do you want this published?” he asked. 

“Only that your name might be cleared,” was the 


288 The Master Revenge 

low reply. “It should be published in justice to you. 
Do as you like about it.” 

At once Nathan turned to the fire-place, slowly tore 
the paper to bits, and threw the pieces into the glow¬ 
ing coals. The storm raged outside, and the ashes of 
the burnt paper whirled up the chimney. But in Na¬ 
than’s heart there was a peace, the peace of victory 
after battle, the triumph of the spirit over the beast. 
The Master Revenge was now complete. 


CHAPTER 31 


After Long Years 

X\f INTER at length gave place to spring and spring 
to summer. Again the air was redolent with flow¬ 
ers, and the songs of birds and the buzz of bees were 
heard on all sides. It was a Saturday morning early in 
July as Nathan stepped from his house and looked 
around. The sun had already risen and was dispelling 
the last traces of fog from the mirror-like river. He 
felt like a giant after his refreshing sleep, and eagerly 
he drank in great draughts of the invigorating air. 
It was good to be alive on such a morning, so he 
thought, as he stood there watching the beauties of 
Nature. 

Nathan had changed outwardly since Christmas Eve 
when he had made his hard struggle through the storm. 
This was due to the removal of his beard, thus making 
his strong, smooth-shaven face a striking contrast 
to his former appearance. His neighbors had been 
surprised at first, and several had passed him by with¬ 
out a sign of recognition. Hitherto he had resembled 
a man of sixty, but now he seemed much younger than 
the forty years which was his real age. He had not 
met Helen since doing away with his beard, but he 
felt sure that she would be pleased at the change. 

. Ever since Christmas Nathan had been busy and the 
time had sped rapidly by. Day by day he had worked 
at the church, and at night he had read and thought 
289 














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292 The Master Revenge 

She was delighted when I told her of your good work:, 
and that everything is in readiness. 

Nathan was satisfied at what he heard. Helen had 
arrived and would play the organ! He was almost 
like a boy in his exuberance as he showed the clergy¬ 
man around the church, pointing out several pieces of 
special work. He even took him into the tower where 
the new bell was hanging. 

“It has a sweeter tone than the old one,” he ex¬ 
plained. “Just wait until you hear it to-morrow.” 

“I liked the old one,” the Parson replied. “For 
long years it called the people together. It was here 
when I came. But now everything is new, so I sup¬ 
pose a new clergyman will be wanted as well. It is 
only natural. I am getting old-fashioned, and find it 
rather hard to keep up with new notions.” 

“I do not believe the people want any such change, 
Mr. Westmore,” Nathan protested, moved by these 
words, and the wistful expression in the old man’s 
eyes. “Your heart is young and you have the love and 
respect of all. I am certain that they would resent 
another man in your place.” 

“Do you think so? I have been here for thirty 
years, and it would almost break my heart to leave. 
Why, I have baptized and married so many in this 
parish that they all seem like my own family. I want 
them yet, and I hope they want me. Anyway, I shall 
go on and try to do my duty and commit everything 
to Him who oversees all.” 

That evening, after supper, Nathan again returned 
to the church. Although there was really nothing left 
for him to do, he found it difficult to stay away. He 
liked to stand some distance off, gaze upon the grace¬ 
ful building, or go inside, seat himself in one of the 


After Long Years 293 

pews and look around. But the organ was his chief 
attraction this evening, and he pictured Helen sitting 
there, playing the hymns and chants. He knew that 
to-morrow would be a wonderful day for them both, 
and he was very anxious for it to arrive. 

At last he reluctantly left the church, closed the door, 
and walked slowly along the path leading to his own 
house. He had gone about half way, when, happening 
to glance out upon the river, he saw a small boat with 
one person on board coming upstream, quite close to 
the shore. He knew that it was Helen, and in an¬ 
other minute he was speeding across the field straight 
for the landing place. He was standing there when the 
boat grated upon the gravel. A smile wreathed the 
rower’s face as she drew in her oars, picked up an arm¬ 
ful of flowers from the bottom of the boat, and step¬ 
ped lightly out. 

“You have been spying upon me, Nathan,” she 
charged as she held out her hand, although her face 
belied her words. 

Nathan took her hand in his and held it fast. His 
heart was beating wildly, and he was afraid that he 
might make a fool of himself. 

“I wasn’t spying upon you, Helen,” he defended. 
“But, my! I’m glad to see you.” 

For a few seconds they looked silently at each other. 
Then the woman’s eyes slowly lowered until they 
rested upon the flowers enfolded in her left arm. 

“You look just like you used to, Nathan, before 
y-you went away,” she said. “ You remind me of that 
last night we stood by the gate.” 

“And I feel just the same, Helen, although years 
have passed since then. You remember how you 
played and sang to me then. Won’t you do it again 








296 


The Master Revenge 

no questions, and no one ever alluded to you. But I 
thought of you very often, and never omitted your 
name from my prayers. I had the strange feeling 
that we would meet again some day, and that all 
would be well. I cannot account for it.” 

“Did you recognize me that day I repaired the 
fence?” Nathan asked. 

“No. But there was something in your eyes which 
reminded me of you. I thought it was only a foolish 
notion at the time.” 

“But Ned knew me at once.” 

“He did, although he said nothing to me. But he 
spread the report about you and I heard that. Then 
when Ned went from bad to worse, and I knew that 
you were so near yet I could not unburden my heart 
to you, I was in despair. For a time I thought I would 
go out of my mind.” 

“I know, Helen, for I saw you one night pacing up 
and down your room, as if in great trouble.” 

“You saw me, Nathan?” 

“Yes, as I was passing your house during a heavy 
storm. I had seen Ned at the hotel with a strange 
woman, and my heart was filled with an intense anger. 
As I walked home, I saw a light in your house, so 
could not resist the temptation of looking in at the 
window, thinking I might catch a glimpse of your face. 
It was wrong, I know, but love compels a man tcTdo 
strange things at times. And, Helen, loves makes me 
bold now.” 

Impulsively he placed his right arm around her, 
drew her close, and bending his head he kissed her. 

“Our love for each other is no mushroom thing,” 
he continued. “It was born long ago, and has been 


After Long Years 297 

tested through years of terrible trials. Let us forget 
the past and think only of the present and the future.” 

Like a bird wearied after a long, hard flight, Helen 
allowed herself to rest within his encompassing arm. 
They told of their love for each other, for the heart is 
always young where love reigns. 

“Play for me now, Helen,” Nathan at length re¬ 
quested. Music such as you alone can produce must 
be the accompaniment to my great happiness. And 
upon your organ, too, in this church.” 

Together they walked up the aisle, and Helen took 
her seat at the organ, with Nathan standing by her 
side. For a while she played several of the old famil¬ 
iar hymns, one of which she sang. She then drifted 
off to tunes of bygone days, now considered old-fash¬ 
ioned. But they brought back sweet memories of 
the past, and thrilled the man standing there. To him 
the beautiful woman had not changed with the years. 
She was the same who had so often played for him 
before. He stooped and kissed her, and upon her face 
there shone a light more wonderful and intense than 
that which came through the west windows. Helen 
ceased playing, and her hands rested idly upon the 
silent keys. 

“Play me one more piece,” Nathan urged. “I want 
'The Long, Long Trail/ ” 

Again Helen pressed the keys, and as they sprang 
into music, she began to sing the opening words. 
When she came to the chorus, Nathan joined her. 

“There’s a long, long trail a-winding 
Into the land of my dreams, 

Where the nightingales are singing, 

And a white moon beams. 

There’s a long, long night of waiting 








































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